Teenage Wasteland
by SoFrost
Summary: They say that you should always mind your own business... Sara's about to find out the hard way that they are right. C/S
1. Chapter 1

**Diclaimer: I still don't own anything but those poor words**

**Summary: One say that you should mind your own business... Sara's about to find out the hard way that one is right. C/S (femslash so if it's not your thing...)  
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**Hi everyone, I'm back... with something new, it's a C/S story (that's the plan anyway)...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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><p><strong>Teenage Wasteland<strong>

**By SoFrost**

**Chapter 1**

_Sara's POV_

I was a bit apprehensive when Luke invited me to his house warming party. I've been tutoring him since he was fourteen and ever since he's been one of my best friends and like a little brother to me; yet I was worried to find myself surrounded by people at least a decade younger than me. I'm not too out of the loop with the young generation but still I'm aware that I don't belong with it nonetheless.

I came to the party because I care about Luke and even though I haven't planned to stay long, I couldn't say no to him. My worries weren't grounded though, I tend to forget that Luke is a special kid – well not much of a kid now – he has the ability to make friend with peoples who are polar opposite from one another; so there are people from early twenties to past fifties at least.

Luke stays with me for quite some time, introducing me to the friends of his he knows I'll be able to connect with – in other words the geeks of the group; I suspect that he's trying to discreetly take action into my love life as well when he starts being very eloquent on my account with a pretty chemist, but I dismiss the idea because it's just a party and Luke is just trying to make sure that I'm at ease and find people to talk to.

Robyn, is her name, is not only very charming and attractive – strawberry blonde, green eyes, a contagious smile and luscious curves; but she has conversation and great sense of humour; and if I'm not mistaking she seems to be attracted to me.

"So Luke tells me you bough this place for him?" she states.

"More like invested in it; he's paying me back slowly. I wanted to give him a little help for his start in the professional life."

"That's a big help, I'd say," she chuckles.

"Hey, I've been tutoring him since he's fourteen; he had a rough start and struggled for many years; yet he came through and now… he's on his way to become a great physicist. I thought I could reward him with this place, but like I said, it's an investment, he's paying me back."

"It's a great place," she says with an appreciative pout.

Well, I have to be grateful to my job for that place. A crime has been committed here and since then it's been hell to sell it. Luke doesn't mind one bit – I mean he's ecstatic to get his own place; and the price was reasonable considering the circumstances.

The party goes well, the big apartment is packed, people dance, talk, have fun; Robyn and I talk a lot, to each other but also to various groups of people; I even dared dancing with her which went rather well. I'm laughing when my eyes catch something in the other side of the room where the 'lounge' space is.

"What is it?" Robyn asks immediately. "Something's wrong? You're very sombre all the sudden."

"Yeah… I'm sorry," I look at her again. "You were saying?" I focus back on her. I can't help looking away every few seconds, anxiety slowly but surely creeping in the pit of my stomach. I register Robyn's voice but don't get any of her words.

"And… I completely lost your attention," she sighs, her good mood has vanished she glances in the direction I was looking at then shakes her head. I'm about to tell her that it's not what she thinks but she speaks again. "Don't," she smiles awkwardly. "I'm going to get another drink, can I get you something?"

"Ugh… no… I think I might have to leave in a few minutes… sorry," I wince. "But we could go out see a movie or have a drink sometimes, if you're interested," I sound detached but I'm a bit nervous. It's not that big of a deal, but I'm still a dork when it comes to ask people out.

"I think it's best to call it quit right now," she dismisses me. I'm about to say something, but once again she cuts me off. "Luke has my number, you let me know when you are _actually_ available," she adds flatly before moving to another group of people in another room.

I don't dwell on the fact that I have half screwed up things already with her and go immediately to the lounge space. A twenty something boy is flirting with a blonde, standing against a wall; one of his hand is holding his beer, his lips are attached to her neck and his other hand is up to her thighs at the limit of indecency. She has a hand on his shoulder, pushing him away gently. He looks at her, whispers something in her ear probably asking her to relax, then he takes a sip of his beer; she grabs the bottle from him and finishes it in one go.

I take a deep breath reminding myself that this is a party and I must maintain the senses of decorum in my next course of action. I finally arrive at their level, the face of the blonde turns ashen when she sees me, but then eventually anger paints itself over her features. The guy notices me and looks at me annoyed.

"Yeah?" he asks with eloquence.

"Do me a favour, get scarce and see if I'm somewhere else," I order calmly never leaving the blonde's eyes.

"Excuse me?" he gets angry and tries to appear menacing. "Who do you think you are?"

In on swift movement I push him firmly against the wall, he tries to push back but I'm stronger than he expected. "Let me rephrase, I work with LVPD, she's a minor so right now you have two options. One, you get the fuck away, or two I make sure that you'll be some bulky guy's bitch for at the very least the next two years of your life. Your call," I send him a tight smile.

"Hey, now I didn't know…" he tries to defend himself.

"Sure you didn't," I snicker. She looks underage to me so surely that thought crossed his mind before he decided that his sex-drive was more important. "Just disappear," I order again and he does just that.

I turn to the blonde and she stares at me with blatant irritation. "Get your things, I'm taking you back to your place."

"Yeah right, you're not my mother."

"You're right, we can call her if you want to," I offer instantly, which only exacerbates her annoyance, not that I care. "Get your things," I repeat calmly.

She keeps looking at me defiantly before eventually picking up her backpack and her coat on one of the couches. I grab her elbow firmly and together we walk to the entrance, I get my jacket and then open the door and we exit the apartment.

"Hey Sar!" I turn around and see Luke at the door, I go back to him "You didn't even say goodbye," he continues with a smile.

"Sorry, something came up."

He's looking at the teenager behind me with a frown. "Who's that? She looks underage," he states his smile immediately falters. I breathe in relief because had he known her I'd have been pissed at him. His eyes get a bigger and he hushes his voice for his next question. "Oh my…Was she at the party? Did she drink? Am I in trouble? Because I swear I didn't know…"

"Yes, yes, no, I know," I answer his question in order. "Listen, don't worry about that, I'm taking care of it. Go back to your guests, okay?" I smile. "I'll call you later. Thanks for inviting me."

"Sure no problem," he grins at me but he's obviously still a bit uncomfortable about the recent information.

I take him in my arms then ruffle his hair when I pull back. "Don't worry about it kiddo; you take care."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks for coming."

"Talk to you later," I wink at him before moving back to the angry teenager and leading her to my car.

I'm a pro at having bad cards being dealt my way, but I think tonight set a new record.

What were the odds really? Going to a party, meet someone I like, and screw it up at the same time because a wasted fifteen years old is about to have an encounter with someone almost ten years older. Slim, I reckon.

I could have leave it at that, after all I'm not responsible of anyone but myself; but call it personal moral or professional hazard, that's just something I can't let happen if I can help it.

Now, the situation managed to get crappier on top of that. Because what were the odds for that wasted teenager to be Lindsey Willows?

Yep, I was born to defy probabilities; that or someone is putting a lot of effort to constantly make a cosmic joke out of my life.

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><p><strong>Alright... for the record I <em>am<em> working on the sequel of Shrink, however I needed a break from it hence this story to take a breather. Anyway...**

**Thanks for reading  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm back with more already.**

**Enjoy**

**So ;)  
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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_Sara's POV_

This is a bad idea.

This is bad on so many levels; I should start driving again and do what I'm supposed to. On the other hand what I'm supposed to do might not be the best thing right now. I can't take any decisions lightly. I should bring Lindsey back to her home, but then Catherine would go ballistic. There is no way that Cath actually knows where Lindsey really is; I mean she would never let her daughter go to a party where she doesn't know anyone, or even let Linds get out of her house dress like she is.

I should drive to Catherine's instead of being park in front of my building. It is not my problem to deal with.

Linds has drunk tonight of that I'm sure, but I have the suspicion that alcohol isn't the only thing floating in her bloodstream right now. It could be a one time thing, an experiment; or for all I know it could be a recurrent situation for her. Either way it's not really any of my business.

Fuck it.

I can't bring Lindsey back to Catherine in that state, period. Right now she's under my watch, and safe; the worse thing that could have happened has been avoided. So I'm going to wait tomorrow morning, I'll deal with Catherine giving me an earful about not warning her immediately then.

I sigh deeply and exit my car then go to the passenger door.

"Come on," I say unnecessarily. The pouty teenager climbs down of my car and waits for me to close the door and lock the car.

I let her lead the way, it's subtle, but I can see her swaying a little when she walks, but she makes it to my place without falling or anything. Either she hasn't taken a lot of thing or she's used to be under influence and therefore knows how to handle herself.

"Nice place," she speaks for the first time as she enters my apartment. She lets her backpack down at the entrance then goes to the couch where she lets herself fall unceremoniously on it.

I shed my jacket, hang it in the entrance, glance at my phone and take a mental note that I'll have to check my messages later. I go to the big window in front of the couch and sit on the ledge, facing Lindsey. I scrutinize her; she's playing with the hem of her shirt. She's dressed to look older than she is yet without looking like she was trying too hard; and her make up is expertly applied; so yes if you look at her without staring you wouldn't think she's underage or at least not suspect it right away; quite a scary thought in my opinion.

She could be a bit nervous as to where things will go from here, but it seems to me that she's more upset by the fact that her night was cut short rather than by the consequences of having been caught doing something illegal. I don't think that her attitude is only because she's wasted, I think she truly doesn't care about anything, which is not really reassuring at this point.

She doesn't care and I don't want to be involved, so her careless attitude really doesn't matter. She is not my problem, I'm just making sure she's okay for tonight, then I'll wash my hands clean of it.

"Feel free to start at any point," she says with a sigh. I narrow my eyes at her not sure of what she's expecting. "Give me your bullshit talk about how deep in trouble I am, and how lucky I should feel that you were there because who knows what this guy could have done to me. You know… be a responsible grown up," she adds with a flat voice.

"I've realized that you didn't care a few moments ago so I figure I'd save my breath," I shrug.

"Very perceptive," she pouts in fake admiration.

I don't say anything and keep watching her.

This is ridiculous, I should call Catherine, I should do what I'm supposed to; whatever is going on is none of my business, and as much as I like Catherine and want to help, this is obviously not in my field of expertise. Yes, I took care of Luke, but that was another story. I don't know Lindsey; except for the formal 'hey there' and annual 'happy birthday' I've never spoken to her… and truth to be told I just don't want to be involved, period.

Then why not taking her home where her mom will scold her and take action to deal with it. Oh damn it, damn me and my need to do the what's best for everyone.

She pulls at one of her locks and looks at it jadedly, apparently fascinated by the point of her hair. She feigns a yawn then stand up from the couch; she moves to my bookshelves and studies what's on them closely. She picks up objects, photo frames before putting them back into place; I hate the invasion of my privacy but something tells me that she's just trying to push my buttons and get a reaction from me, so I don't say anything not liking to be baited.

There's something unsettling about her, she's above the situation; it's not just that though, I couldn't say why but I have a very bad vibe coming from her.

She snorts suddenly. "Perfect family postcard, how about that?" she smirks with despise as she hold one of the few pictures of my siblings and my parents where we look like a normal family, one of the few pictures I have from before the time things took a wrong turn.

My first impression is that she thinks she has the world wrapped around her finger. Since I've decided that I didn't care, I don't have to put my gloves on to handle her. I'm going to call Catherine and tell her right now what's going on.

I reach in my pocket for my mobile phone, I look for Cath's number and press the call button. I'm thinking as fast as I can for the right words or at least get mentally ready for an earful. I end up straight to her voicemail… great.

"Yeah… hey Cath, it's Sara…" I see Lindsey looking at me at the mention of her mother's name but the flash of panic disappears quickly. I've reached her voicemail, I guess I don't have a choice now, I have to wait for tomorrow. "Well I'll call back, it's nothing important," I say lightly. "See you later, take care," I add before closing my phone.

"Ooh the parental threat, scary," the teenager says with singsong voice. "Too bad, you obviously don't know how to use that card right," she snorts.

"Where does she think you are at?" I ignore her comment.

"At a friend's where she dropped me off," she shrugs. "And she already made the check up call so now she must be focused on her date."

"So is it an 'I need attention' thing?" I ask truly curious.

"Oh my we're getting into the teenage psychology now," she snorts.

This time I can't help laughing a bit. "Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you but you're giving yourself way too much credit. You'd be quite a poor subject for any psychological study. I mean, you're just teenager acting like a teenager. Nothing new here," I chortle. Her eyes grow sombre and I think I've just taken her aback; she might not be used to have people playing her own little game. "Sorry if I just burst your bubble."

She stares at me hard for a second, and then comes back to the couch. She needs a few more seconds to compose herself and get over the fact that she has lost the upper hand for a moment. She tilts her head and scrutinizes me for a minute. A knowing smile appears on her lips. "Right now you think you know me… because you know what I'm going through… don't you?" she declares, sure of herself.

"I have no idea what you're going through. And truth to be told I don't care that much to find out," I simply reply; once again she appears upset by my answer. I can see her contracting her jaw in annoyance; I guess I was right to think that she was testing me. "Don't tell me, I'm not living up to your expectations," I feign a grin before shaking my head "I am crestfallen about it." I get up from the ledge and go to my room to get her something to change into since it appears that she's going to spend the night here.

I come back in the living room with a shirt and a sweat pants and find her near my fridge a cold beer in hand getting the cap off of it. I put the clothes on the back of the couch and hurries to her sides. She manages to get a sip out of the bottle before I take it from her and start pouring it in the sink.

"I was drinking that," she states matter-of-factly. She laughs a bit. "You know I can't help wondering why I am here," she starts, while I'm still busy with the bottle. "But, I think I figured you out."

"Imagine that," I say absentmindedly before putting the bottle on the counter; just as I turn into her direction again, I see her moving toward me; I react quickly, but not enough to avoid the brush of her lips against mine nor her hand travelling up my chest. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I explode, pushing her physically away.

I immediately rub the back of my hand against my lips to erase the contact, I feel imminent nausea coming up but my anger helps me to keep it in check.

Lindsey chuckles at my reaction, her look of confidence back on her face. "Oh please… I saw you with that redhead at the party. Don't go play coy on my now. I'm pretty, I do girls as well and I've been told that I was a good shag…" smirks before passing the tip of her tongue over her lips suggestively. "What does she have that I haven't, uh?" she teases me.

I advance on her and grab her arm firmly, maybe a little rougher than I should because fear invades her eyes. "She was a woman, and you're just a kid!" I shake her, making a considerable effort not to shout. "You're just a freaking kid and you shouldn't act like that!" I continue firmly. "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, do you hear me?" the threat in my voice isn't lost on her.

"You're hurting me," she says calmly, she's keeping her composure but her eyes do display fright.

"Do you hear me?" I repeat slowly through my teeth.

She narrows her eyes at me, her attitude is back full force. "Loud and clear," she replies calmly, stressing out each word. "Now let go of me."

I undo the steel grip I have on her arm realising only now that I've been physically violent with her, yet another thought to make me nauseated. I don't think I like having this kid around, in a small time frame she has managed to put me out of my depth and make me lose my temper enough to be physical about it.

I move past her and pick up the clothes I had when I came back in the living room. "Take a shower because you reek of booze and what not; change yourself then you'll sleep in the bedroom," I raise a finger before she can say anything. "Keep quiet. Unless you need anything, I think I've heard enough from you."

She snorts with a smirk then goes to the bathroom.

I let out a heavy sigh when I'm alone. I lean over the sink feeling myself losing against nausea. I take deep cleansing breaths before splashing cold water over my face. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is off with that kid – other than her wasted state that is, and that I haven't seen the worst of it yet.

I don't like this, I really don't like this.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading<br>**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Thank you for the reviews, I'm really glad to see that you're enjoying the story so far. Here's more.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_Sara's POV_

The rest of the night goes without any further incident. Lindsey followed my instructions, took a shower, changed and went to bed. I kept an eye on her, just to make sure she wouldn't be sick during her sleep; once I was somewhat assured that nothing would happened I dozed off on my couch, waiting with great impatience the moment this nightmare would be over.

I'm up at the first rays of dawn, I take that opportunity to take a shower and think about how I'm going to relate last night events to Catherine. There's not exactly an easy way to say 'your kid has a problem'. I can feel a headache coming in anticipation as well because I'm sure I'll get an earful. Well maybe not…

Catherine and I have a better relationship; it took a one night stand and a failed and short-lived attempt to make something out of it to actually give us the base for a friendship. Sure I'm not as close to her as I am to the boys but we are friends, we can talk, joke and go out without feeling the urge to kill each other anymore.

So maybe she'll understand that I wanted to preserve her by not bringing Lindsey home while she was under influence, not that it'll make it any easier but that's still something, right?

Right…

I exit my shower, get dressed and decide to fix myself something to eat. I also decide that no matter what I'll get Lindsey up by 10 o'clock and that I'll drop her off and face Catherine by 11 top.

So much for not getting involved.

My phone rings and for a second there I fear it might be Catherine getting back to me about my call last night, but I breathe out in relief when I see the name of Luke on the screen.

"Hey kiddo," I answer cheerfully.

"_Hey, how are you?_"

"Alright, although it could be better. How are you?"

"_A bit out of it,_" he chuckles.

"The party lasted until late?"

"_Early more like, but it was cool everyone had a good time._"

"You need some help to clean? Because I can come over later, you know," I offer.

"_Nah, don't worry, a few people stayed behind to help. Listen, I called to see if everything went okay on your side with that teenager,_" he announces. "_I promise that I had no idea that she was there and I don't know her, you know I'm responsible now, if I had known that any underage was there I'd have stayed around to make sure no alcohol was consumed and…_"

"Hey slow down, Lucky Luke," I stop his rant. "I trust you, like I said last night, don't worry about it. She happened to be the daughter of one of my co-workers which is why I noticed her. I think that she got there by the friend of a friend of yours. There were so many people I don't expect you to keep track of everything. But don't worry, everything is under control now," I'm not sure about that, but as far as he is concerned he doesn't have to worry about it.

"_Ouch… how is your co-worker coping?_"

"She doesn't know yet, I figured I might as well bring back a clean teenager, to smooth things down a bit."

"_I hope everything will be okay_"

"Me too."

"_On a lighter topic… what did you think about Robyn?_" he tiptoes.

"She was nice."

"_Just nice?_" he presses further.

"So you _were_ playing matchmaker."

"_Oh come on… it wasn't like a set up. I just thought… you know… that you'd like her… and I know for a fact that she's single, so are you and…_" he struggles. "_… alright look… you haven't been dating ever since Becky, and I know it bummed you out but seriously she wasn't all that… now Robyn…_"

"Do you have any idea how desperate you make me look? I mean I know I can be quiet inept to get dates, but right now you make me sound full on pathetic. Mind you I must look more desperate than I thought if you have to get involve for me to get a date."

"_So you're going to go on a date with Robyn?_" he asks with enthusiasm.

"I didn't say that and I think I kind of messed up with her already."

"_Hey if it's because of the teenager… you know…_"

"Luke…" I say his name with a sigh. "Why do I have the feeling that you've spoken to her about that already?"

"…_because I kind of did?_" he replies sheepishly.

I snort amused. "Okay, Luke, you know I love you but just stay away from my dating life or lack thereof."

"_Alright,_" he sighs dramatically.

"Hey, listen I have to go," I declare when I here movements coming from my bedroom. "But I'll see you Tuesday for diner okay?"

"_Cool, you take care then._"

"You too."

I hang up with a smile on my lips. At least I give Luke credits for always making me smile. Something tells me that it might also be the only time I get to smile today. I curse under my breath when I realize that I haven't asked him about Robyn's number. Oh well, at least I won't look too desperate, besides judging by the sound of the shower I think I have more important things to take care of right now.

Oh joy.

I'm surprised that Lindsey woke up 'early', it's only eight and considering that she wasn't clean last night I thought that she might have needed a little more time to recover. I guess she's used to it.

She comes into the living room and goes to sit on one of the stools on the other side of my counter. She looks fresh as a daisy, only the faint dark circles under her eyes give away her tiredness. She is dressed like a regular, quiet teenager, which is quite a change from last night.

"Coffee, black," she says flatly.

"Good morning to you too sunshine; and no you may not get a coffee, miss politeness."

She looks at me jadedly and sighs heavily. "Good morning whiny person," she feigns a smile. "Coffee black," she repeats. "Please," she adds as an afterthought.

"Better," I grin sweetly. "But that's still a no for the coffee," I inform her.

"Boy, aren't you a pain in the ass," she says with evident sarcasm.

"Funny, I was thinking the same about you. But, hey, the good news is that we won't have to put up with each other for much longer."

"You got that right," she rolls her eyes. This kid is charming by the minute.

I prepare breakfast for her and she eats silently. Now that she's clean she still doesn't seem like she had any care in the world; I couldn't say if she really doesn't care or if it's just for the show.

It's almost ten and a half when we finally leave my place. The drive to her place is quiet, she watches the city going by through her window while I can feel panic gripping me the closer we get to her home. I can see now that I took a wrong decision last night, I should have brought her back home immediately. But no, I had to play the Saint Bernard, really…

I park in front of Catherine's house and relax my hands on the wheel, taking a deep breath. What's done is done so I might as well bite the bullet.

"I don't see why you're so nervous," Lindsey speaks for the first time. Her confident and detached tone from last night is back. "After all you just offered me a ride after bumping into me at the library."

My head shoots up in her direction; she looks at me with a mean smile. "You fucked my night and by extension my week end," she states. "You really didn't think that I'd give you the opportunity to get me in trouble on top of that, did you?"

I have a bad feeling about this. I shake my head, this is ridiculous, she's just a kid, with issues, granted; but still she's just a kid and I'm not going to let her dictate me what to do. "I'm not lying to your mother."

"Oh Sara, pumpkin, no one ever said I was giving you the choice here," she talks to me like I was failing to see the obvious.

If she thinks I'm going to go all soft on her, she's mistaking. I'm already in deep trouble with Catherine as it is without adding lie to the list. Besides, Catherine needs to take care of this problem not me.

"I'm not receiving orders from a fifteen year old, for one. And then, I'm going to tell your mother exactly what happened last night," I tell her firmly.

"No, you're not," she declares with a voice empty of any emotion. "See, I have quite a bruise on my arm saying otherwise, and you don't want me to explain to my mother how you made a pass at me last night," you'd think she's talking about the weather when she says that. I immediately clench my jaw and watch her chuckling at my state. "Right, I bet you're baffled to realise that I wouldn't have an inch of scruples to lie about such a thing, probably angry that I dare blackmailing you so unabashedly…" she lets out a deep breath. "Oh well, life's bitch, get over it," she shrugs.

Her expression turns colder and on the edge of a threat; her gaze is hard and unfaltering. "Feel free to test my limits, but you'd be surprise of how convincing I can be when I put my mind to it; your call" she smirks as she echoes my words from last night. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you let me crash at your place. However you need to understand just one thing, I only care about me, myself and I; and you my dear, are nothing but a mere deviation on my course," she lets her words sink in, before picking up her bag and opening the door. "Read my lips again," she marks a beat just to enjoy her little victory and put my face deeper in the dust. "Library," she says with a wink in my direction before exiting the car and closing the door.

That evil little bitch.

I realize only now that my fists are so tightly balled that my knuckles are white. Oh she's good, very good at this game; no wonder she was so relax about everything. I failed to play my cards right twice last night, first by taking her to my place and then by not insisting when I called Catherine. Right then, she knew she had me. Then to have more guarantees she jumped on me, it was all part of a fucking plan. The least I can say is that she's quick to adapt herself to the situation.

What have I done that is so bad that today I'm the toy of a manipulative, sexual behaving, drug using and alcohol consuming teenager?

I guess I dug my grave on this one. Sure I don't have anything to reproach myself with and if I'm fairly certain that should she lie the truth will eventually come out… well I'm not willing to engage myself on this path. I guess I'll have to admit defeat. I was wondering how Catherine could be oblivious of the situation, now I know that I had vastly underestimated Lindsey.

I don't know what pissed me off the most right now, that she played me like a fucking violin or that I didn't even see it coming.

I exit the car and make it around to Lindsey's side since she was waiting for me to make a decision while leaning against my car. I want to punch something really hard so much I'm mad but hold my anger in. I'm cornered, and I hate that I've been a puppet in Lindsey's hands, but I look on the bright side, I'm done with her as fast as it had started.

She takes the lead and walks to her front door. I follow suit, for a second I'm so pissed that I think I'll throw cautions to the wind, not letting some manipulative sneaky adolescent imposing me her ways, but then rationality gets the best of me.

Lindsey rings and as soon as the door opens she has her cheerful, honest , innocent adolescent mask on. "Hey Mom," she greets Catherine with a hug and a kiss.

"Hey baby," Cath's smile disappears when she sees me. "Sara? Is everything okay?" irritation works it way to her features. "Lindsey, are you in trouble?"

Lindsey doesn't lose her composure so sure I'll follow her lead. She looks at me straight in the eyes though, making sure I know who's holding the leash around my neck.

"No don't worry," I reply after a moment. "I was at the library and saw Linds, offered her a lift home."

The words are cutting through my throat as I say them and Lindsey's smirk might be subtle but I can see it clearly.

"Oh mom, I got you this book I told you about," the teenager announces before opening her backpack and taking a book out of it. Even from where I stand I can't see any trace of outrageous clothes or make up in the bag. That devilish girl had planned it all.

"Right, I'll be going then," I say, feeling sick at Lindsey Willows' little show. The little blonde goes inside of the house but I have no doubt that she's staying within earshot.

"Hey, Sar, I had your message. Is everything okay?" Catherine asks me with concern.

"Yeah… I…" I sigh. "It wasn't really important because I can't remember what I wanted," I chuckle. "Anyway… I'll see you at work," I cut short our conversation, not wanting to lie even more to her.

"Sure."

Lindsey comes back onto the porch and beams. "Thank you very much for driving me home Sara."

I force a smile upon my lips. "You are… welcome."

"Drive safe," she adds with a snarky grin and a furtive wink. I keep my mouth shut and just make my way back into my car.

I can't remember the last time someone has made me that sick to my stomach; I feel bad for lying to Catherine; pissed off at that brat for playing me; and sorry that Catherine is living a lie and I just helped sugar coating it yet again.

That kid sure is a handful.

…Right, that's an understatement.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Howdy! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the feedback, you're awesome. I'm back with a wee bit more**

**Enjoy**

**So ;)**

**Ps:** CLSidle.**.. let's just say right now... Lindsey keeps he head start. ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_Sara's POV_

Who ever decided that day time was the standard working hours? Or that it was more appropriate to see people then? I mean, I wish people working days would stop thinking that everyone is like them. I work all the freaking night and I need a bit of sleep every now and then, but now someone thought that knocking on my door at eleven a.m. was a normal thing to do. Seriously, someone better be dying or I'll be the one committing a crime.

I look through my peep hole and my whole day goes down the drain. I consider ignoring the insistent knock, I won't get any sleep but that's a better option than opening the door.

"Right, stay behind the door and pretend you're not there… clever really."

I sigh and raise my eyes to the ceiling. "Why me? Seriously, why me?" I ask to whoever is having a blast at sending cluster fucks my way.

There's no point to ignore the knock, might as well face the inevitable. I unlock my door and open it. A teenager pushes her way past me into my living room. "Well, please, come on in."

The little blonde puts her shoulder bag down before plopping down on my couch. I close and lock the door before joining her inside.

"Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Why, you're going to give me an earful about it?" she chortles. "I was bored so I got out," she shrugs.

"And here I thought private schools kept a tight track of their students…" I muse aloud.

She laughs a bit. "I'm smart and I love to put people in a pickle," she offers smugly. "I'm absent a lot yet I'm one of their most brilliant students… quite a dilemma in a school where statistics is their first care," she chuckles. "Besides you'd be surprise at how tightly they close their eyes as long as they are satisfied. Trust me private schools can be even more corrupted than public ones."

"Fascinating," I reply flatly.

She stands up and goes to my fridge opens it and chortles. "No beer left," she snorts. "Were you expecting me?" she laughs a bit. "You have a way to spoil the fun," she shakes her head.

I can't think properly, too many questions are in my mind; mind that I still can't wrap around the fact that she's here. This kid is tiring me already.

"Out of curiosity, how did you get there and how did you enter the building?" I frown.

"I have resources and then… who wouldn't open the door to an adorable, serious teenager, upset because she's late to see her new tutor because she lost the paper with the door code," she makes a puppy face.

"Right, clever," I concede her that. "I don't know why you're here, but sit tight until your mother gets here to pick you up," I simply tell her with a wink and a pinched smile before grabbing my cell phone.

"Oh come on not the parental threat again," she rolls her eyes with exasperation. She gets up and snatches my phone from my hand. "You're still upset about the other day aren't you? Well I'm sorry, but it wasn't anything personal."

I ignore her and just take the landline before dialling the number by heart. She puts her finger on the cradle of the phone effectively cutting the line. "Let's not be melodramatic," she sighs. "I said I was sorry."

"I don't give two cent about your miserable apology. You had your little fun the other day, and got away with it, congratulation," I say firmly. "That game is over though, you fooled me once, that's shame on me, I'd be damned if you're going to fool me twice."

"Fine," she sighs then goes to grab her bag and walks to the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask while waiting for Catherine to pick up her damn phone. Why is it that she never answers when I need her to? I put down the phone and join the teenager from hell in the entrance before she gets a chance to reach the door.

"Out, obviously," she spits with annoyance.

"I'm not letting you run free without supervision. So you're going to wait for your mother to come and pick you up."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," she snorts.

"You stay here," I repeat firmly.

"Or what? You're going to hit me?" she asks sharply. "I'm getting out of here, I'll jump out of the window if I have to."

"Whatever, I'm calling your mother nonetheless," I can't hold her against her will, fine, but Catherine will know that her kid is out of control.

"Please do," she encourages me while I pick up the phone and dial again.

"Damn it!" I don't get any answer yet again. "Why doesn't she ever answer her fucking phone?" I exclaim with frustration.

"What did you expect?" the teenager mocks me. I ignore her yet again and reach for my cell that she has discarded on the coffee table. "I don't get why you even bother," she sighs tiredly.

I go straight to voicemail. I hang up and try again, to the same result. "Fuck!" I curse angrily. I take a deep breath to calm down before calling again. Lindsey is watching me from the entrance, as detached as ever, if anything she's amused. I find myself thinking that I'd pay a lot just to wipe the smirk off her face, which makes me angry because this is not a line of thought I should have. I take another deep breath and call Catherine for the fourth time. "Catherine, Sara speaking. Can you, please, call me back as soon as possible? Thank you."

Lindsey breathes out slowly. "You're making a fool of yourself, even though you won't realize it so until later," she states. "Right, I'm off then, and don't come any closer to me or I'll scream my lungs out," she says lightly. "Have a nice day," she winks before going back to the door.

The only reason I don't actually try to hold her back is because I'm afraid to lose my temper yet again. I hurt her physically once, which is once too many. I'm going to report everything to Catherine, after all it's her problem to deal with.

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><p><strong>Alrighty, I'll try to have more soon<strong>

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**And here's the new part. Thank you for your reviews :) **

**Enjoy, **

**So ;)  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

_Sara's POV_

I rub my forehead tiredly. I need to think of a way to analyse the evidence in my hand. I feel like I've been looking at it the wrong way.

I hear the door of 'my' lab being opened abruptly and slammed close. I barely have time to raise my head and realize what's happening that Catherine is in my face oozing with anger.

"What is wrong with you?" she asks harshly. "Telling me that my daughter isn't at school, and wandering around… worrying me sick about her… this is not a joke to pull on me Sara!"

"It wasn't a joke!" I defend myself. "She wasn't at school, I tried to call you five times and she was at my place then!"

"Are you high?" she asks with narrowed eyes.

"What? No!"

"I went to her school, I made a fool of myself asking around about her; they pulled her out of her class so I could see that she was there! Everyone confirmed that she was there all the time!"

I am simply speechless. I know I haven't dreamt it; she was at my place this morning, I mean, I didn't hallucinate, right?

"They're lying she was at my place!"

"She doesn't know where you live for one, and then it's impossible Sara, I checked!"

"She…"

"She was at school all day!" she stresses out every word as if to hammer them through my skull.

"Catherine, your kid has been lying to you for a long time I think and…"

"Don't talk about my daughter like that!" she cuts me off hotly.

"I'm not lying to you, she…"

"Damn it Sara!" she explodes. She looks away takes a deep breath. "_Listen_ to me," she orders firmly. She's panting heavily and in all the time we've known each other I don't think I've ever seen her that mad, except maybe with the irresponsible 'singer' who left Lindsey to die in a drowning car. "I _went_ to her school," she marks a pause. "I went there and everyone I spoke to told me that she had been at each one of her classes. I went with her tutor to pull Lindsey out of her class to have a visual confirmation," she speaks slowly. "Now are you to tell me that the whole darn world is conspiring against you? Is that it?"

Great, so Lindsey is lying – I'll give her credit she is beyond brilliant at it, and I'm the one getting burn. It's like the whole world is turning backward!

I think it could actually be worse. I could be Catherine, oblivious of what's going on right under my nose. It's one thing not to pay attention, or not to see details, but when you're a CSI either of those situations is like an insult. We are paid to see the detail, to figure out what's going on. Catherine is shrew and she's being manipulated by her own daughter. I can see her breaking down to pieces when she'll find out; because she will find out eventually. As good as Lindsey may be at some point her system will rust and everything will go downhill.

I hate that Lindsey is so good at her little game. Another negative point, I didn't uncover her today, I just unwillingly give her more credit to her mother's eyes, which mean that she'll get even more confidence and have more room to deceive her mother.

When I think that all I had to do was to bring her home the moment I found her wasted… I want to kick myself in the rear for that striking light of bad judgement.

"Catherine, I swear…" I try again, but it's useless.

"Don't!" she grunts. "I'm done talking with you about that, this is the first and last time you call me for this kind of prank, do you hear me?"

"It wasn't…"

"This topic is close and so help me if you pull that up again," she concludes bluntly not even giving me a chance to speak. She groans again before storming out of the room.

I am not going to lose my temper. I'm not…

I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a long breath.

This kid has just upgraded from brat to devil's associate… even though I think she might put the devil himself out of a job at this rate.

That's two for her and nothing for me.

This is simply unacceptable, I can't let a fifteen years old pushing me around like this. I knew I had underestimated her since the first time me run into one another, but right now I realize that I hadn't fathom how much, and something tells me that I've just seen the tip of the iceberg.

Well, this is official the gloves are off. I'm not going to go after Lindsey, but if she ever comes around again we'll play by my rules.

It's on, and teenager or not she's going down.

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><p><strong>Short, I know, but I shall come back soon.<strong>

**Thanks for reading**


	6. Chapter 6

**Howdy! And more as promised :). **

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

_Linds'__ POV_

I'm pissed.

Granted, it's a rather recurring mood in my case, but usually I can do something about it; but then again usually I don't have anyone to screw my plans up. Alright, in all honestly my plans haven't been screwed up per say, let's just say that my schedule had to be revised. I still get to do what I want, only for the moment I actually have to show up in class.

I've been there _every_ freaking day for almost three weeks _in a row_, that hadn't happened ever since… my first seven months in that prestigious school of mine.

No, I haven't suddenly decided to become a perfect student, I mean the classes are still as boring as per usual, I still despise 90 per cent of the people filling that place, and I still rather set my hair on fire than be here. Why do I bother in that case? After all it was working well for me, I just had to appear at a few classes of my choosing just to show that I was alive, and then I could get out of that place to get on with my life.

When I got transferred here I thought that I had come in hell: private school, strict policy, kids who looks at me like a poor little freak – and I do mean poor. My mom thought it was the best thing for me because my scores were dropping when attitude was skyrocketing.

I was thinking of myself as rebel alright; defying authority and doing whatever I wanted. Fact is, I was naïve like any kid, and even more I was quite dumb. It's funny because I've realised that it's when you think yourself as smart that you are actually the dumbest. At the time I thought I own the world, but I always got caught, because in my mind getting caught would piss my mother off which I foolishly thought was the goal of the whole thing. Yeah, too much TV will do that to you; it'll make you think that once you get your parents attention everything is beautiful as you reach the rainbow.

But one bad thing can hide a good one. My transfer here led me to re-evaluate my position on things; and that's when I had my little epiphany. I understood that I was lacking strategy and intelligence when it came to enjoy my life.

After my father's death, it's like everything had become dull overnight. It was quite a wake up call too, the persons I had called my friends turned their back on me, and I became the bottom line of many jokes. That's when I started to be angry, pissed off even, but I mean _really_ pissed off. That feeling keep growing and growing, to the point that I was filled with it.

I hated the world – mind you, I still do.

I hated my so-called friends – I wipe them off the map of my life.

I hated my father, for all the times he did right by me he was a selfish loser most of the time. Don't get me wrong, I loved him, not just because we shared genetic but because sometimes he had his way to make me feel not special, but normal.

It might not seem like it, but I'm not ungrateful. I know that mom fights tooth and nail for us to have a 'normal' life; at least I know that now. All I saw when I was younger, is the fact that she was at work most of the time, and that my aunt Nancy's house was more like a home to me than my own place. My time with mom was always cut short because work was in the way and when work wasn't in the way there were all the things to take care about in the house, for the house; in the end as much as she was there for me she was absent most of the time.

The irony of it all is that she was only absent because of dad. And dad had the good part because since I was more or less always upset because mom wasn't around, the fact that he would focus on me the way mom couldn't, even if it was just for one hour, made me favour him.

For one hour with my dad, I knew I mattered. We'd go eat an ice cream or a waffle or whatever I fancied then, sit on a bench and then I'd ask him questions or just tell him whatever was on my mind and at that moment he was truly interested in what I had to say. It was one hour on the week end when he remembered he had a daughter.

Mom always thought that all he did was to spoil me and make me have fun, if only she knew… Except for our special hour my dad would use me as a babe magnet. Playing the attentive dad, always get him the favours of the women. He spent his time charming them while I was… well left on my own devices. It took me time to understand that I was just his accessory to play his cards to the ladies. I'd spend my time occupying myself on my own and then to make it up to me and make sure I wouldn't say anything to mom, he was ready to buy me an entire store.

The amusing part of it all is how mom would go all her way to make sure I see my father as a good man; dad never tried to paint a good portrait of mom; and of course all the time they thought I didn't understand what was going on, unbelievable how naïve grown ups can be sometime.

Anyway, I hated dad for leaving me for good.

I hated mom because… because instead of sharing that burden with me, she shut me out because she refused to deal with her own pain.

I hated myself because if I had made a different choice that day, things would have probably been different.

Back then everything was… bad, to put it mildly. I felt like I was suffocating all the time, all I wanted was to find a way to feel alright. Strangely enough I never quite achieved that unless I was getting in trouble.

That threw my relationship with my mother down the drain. I mean, it came to a point when my favorite game was to a find a way to piss her off, because at least then we'd have something to say to one another. All I wanted was for us to talk about dad, to stop pretending like he had never existed and she couldn't do that. I never meant to make her feel like a bad mother or anything, but I needed her to guide me through the death of my father. Yes, he was kind of a loser, but my father still and I didn't love him any less.

I love mom, but we were not getting along. I got tired of having her breathing down my neck, but by the time I understood that I was approaching my dilemma the wrong way, she had transferred me here, in private school where I'm bored out of my skull.

She thought it would be best for me because I needed discipline to get my scores high again. Truth to be told I never had any difficulty at school. After dad died I just stopped caring.

Even though I've hated this place ever since the first day I set a foot in it, I eventually come to appreciate it. See, the secret is to compromise. Up front, I get the good grades my mother is dreaming of, but behind stage I get off, free as a bird and enjoy whatever poison I can get my hands on; then it's a win/win situation.

There are cracks in every system, and in my new school, I found out that if you have money, you're untouchable because nobody spits on money. In my case money was out, so I had to find another angle and it turned out that if you know the right people, and the way to deal with them, you can get whatever you want but most of all you can get away with it.

I'm not good, I'm brilliant. I literally float over the classes here and they are a little more advanced than my old school. I've always been aware that I had a good level when it came to class, well a very good one. I decided to blend in though rather than give another reason to the people surrounding me to mock me.

That easiness of mine came in handy. I've established a good system. I can miss classes, and I have the good people in my pocket to ensure my mom that I'm the most diligent student they have. All I have to do in return for that hall pass is to keep up my scores so as not to drop the statistics of the school, needless to say I'm really the only winner here, but my associates don't need to know that.

My system is perfect and it's been running smoothly since the beginning. It has come to a halt though three weeks ago. Why? Because I've just been unfortunate enough to face an unexpected obstacle; and that obstacle has a name: Sara Sidle.

"Miss Willows?" the voice of Mr Devlin encrusts itself in my thoughts. I blink and look at him, waiting for him to continue. "I asked if you knew the answer to the equation," he pursues. "But I suppose you were too busy daydreaming to…"

"Forty two," I cut his rant.

"Excuse me?"

"The answer is forty two," I repeat emotionlessly. I hear faint snorts and I don't need to move to know that it's Jaz and Noodle who got my Douglas Adam reference, and they are the only ones. "X prime is equal forty two," I elaborate quickly not to cross Mr Devlin.

"No it's not, it's equal minus thirty plus the root square of eighty-one multiplied by seventy-eight divided by eight by two," he corrects me with satisfied smirk, not realizing that he's actually two steps behind me.

"Which is equal to minus thirty plus seven hundred and two divided by sixteen; which is equal six hundred and seventy two divided by sixteen which makes forty two," I elaborate.

Mr Devlin stares at me with unconcealed despise. I just spoiled his fun, but he just provided me with a little entertainment. He clenches his jaw then turns to the board and write the equation complete, showing that I was right. "I see you've made your homework, that's good," he says while writing up a new equation supposedly more complicated than the first one. "Would you mind coming to the board?" he asks, holding the marker out to me.

I refrain myself from sighing and stand up. I write in one go and complete his equation within a minute and hand him back the marker. When he looks at me there's a mix of despise and admiration. "My apologies Miss Willows, I guess you were actually paying attention," he concedes.

No I wasn't, your class is just as mysterious to me as tap water, I think; however I only reply "I was," before returning to my seat. There are still forty minutes to go of this intense boredom.

I hate you Sara Sidle.

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><p><strong>Alright, let me assure you that it <em>is<em> a C/S story... and I'll ask you to bear with me. **

**I realize that adopting Lindsey's POV seems weird, but somehow that's the approach I had in mind...that's the challenge _i_'ve decided to tackle. I don't know if Cath's POV will be adopted yet, because I'm just following Mojo blindly... so just, yeah, bear with me.**

**'The answer is 42' is a reference to_ "_**_The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_**_" by _Douglas Adams**

**Thanks for reading**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Linds' POV_

"I'm impressed, Lee," Jaz says dramatically as she slumps down next to me in our spot. She's soon followed by Noodle who sits next to her Indian stile.

"Me too, three weeks," he adds with an appreciative pout.

"In a _row_," Jaz stresses out.

"Right, I feel like cutting myself with a sheet of paper," I reply to their mockery.

I hate everyone in this school at the exception of those two. It goes without saying that we belong in the outcast social rank.

Jaz, or Judith Ann Zia – 'think about how stoned my parents were when they came up with that one' – Brewer, is the first friend I made in my new cage. It didn't work right away between us, we actually had to be stuck together on an assignment to find out that we had the same views on that place and that we might as well share our ride through hell together.

She's the most impassive person I know after me, always keep her emotion in check and has one of the finest sarcasm boxes around. She has a pale complexion which is only accentuated by her dark jay hair and piercing green eyes. She's here because her parents – though completely oblivious of her and her siblings, and always on the run – wanted the best for her. She's the one who helped me understand the need to compromise to get mom off my back.

'Give her what they want, it's the only doorway to complete freedom', she said to me. And she was right, mom has never been as relaxed around me ever since my scores aren't keeping her up at night – something I couldn't understand to begin with, but as parents do, right?

Norman Woodleton, or Noodle, is the archetype of the boy living in his brothers and sisters shadows. They are academically brilliant and he's the baby of the family which means that his father doesn't expect any less from him, without being impressed at his record so far; after all five of his children have already done it all – 'just keep up the good work son'.

No it's not our ability to be invisible that brought us together; we are teenager and most of us are invisible to our parents. We are old enough to emancipate ourselves a bit and it is my belief that parents wait for adolescence to try to get back some of the years they've spent watching over us H24. The reason why Jaz, Noodle and I hang around together is because we just didn't really fit in any of the groups surrounding us – not that we cared enough to try to fit in – so we just made our own.

I wouldn't call them my partners in crime since I'm the only one 'getting loose' during school hours; Jaz and Noodle don't care, which is one of the thing I like about our association; each one of us basically does their own things. We are independent, we're not the 'attached by the hip' type of mates. However we are each other's alibi when one of us needs one.

"So, you're really not going to break out of here?" Noodle asks seriously.

"No," I keep reading my book.

"Why not? I mean that's not like you to stay that long in our lovely cage," Noodle frowns.

"Because she still has her piggy tail," Jaz snort.

"Glad you find it amusing," I reply flatly.

"Her what?" Noodle is lost. He's a bit out of the loop since we haven't been spending much time all together.

"There's a good looking young fellow in a suit near the flag pole," I tell him and he discreetly looks at the right direction. "Meet detective Alonzo."

"You're kidding?" he chortles.

"Oh yeah, watch me," I tilt my head.

"Alright, forgetting that you know his name, what makes you so sure that he's here for you?" he challenges me. "I mean, even I can find at least five reasons for him to be here."

"Noodle, what are the golden rules?"

"Always be ahead in the game," he replies immediately.

"And the one before that, the most important one is 'know the players'," I come back. "My mom works for the LVPD. However brief her history with Sara Sidle was they trust one another to some extent. Sure she believed me, it doesn't change the fact that Sara has put the seed of doubt in her mind. So she needed to find a way to keep an eye on me just to make sure I didn't lie to her without appearing like she didn't trust me. What better way than to ask a colleague for a favour? How convenient that detective Alonzo, who's on paternity leave, just decided to come around our school?"

Noodle gives a thought to my theory. "Right… maybe you're a little paranoid."

"I don't think so, there's a reason why I suffer the LVPD lab parties three times a year; trust me it's not for my entertainment, it's to keep track of names and faces of their whole teams."

"Wait, I've seen a new kid around, what if she had infiltrated our school to keep an eye on you?" he asks, his blue eyes sparkling.

Jaz snorts and shakes her head, I just roll my eyes. "I said that my mother was working with the LVPD, not the FBI."

"Anyway, where does that leave us? Because you know that I can't play the model student for too long without feeling like murdering someone," Jaz declares.

"I second that; unfortunately I don't think I'll be able to do anything for at least another two weeks, but I'm betting on three."

"You're not serious… another three weeks of this hell?" Jaz asks while putting one of her locks behind her ear. She's pissed, I can tell, even though it doesn't show.

"I know…" I sigh. "It's not like I had the choice; he comes at random time which means that I can't lose him," I explain.

"Oh well…" Jaz sighs accepting this new twist of event.

I told them about the Sara Sidle situation, the last time I met Sara was a rather close call. Not that I never have a back up plan but still it forced me to put a halt on my well oiled system. Like I said, I know the players and I know my mother, so I was expecting her to pull something like that, either come herself randomly at school or ask someone to keep a 'discreet' eye on me.

Why dragging Jaz and Noodle along? Easy, they hang out with me and I need my mother to believe that my frequentations are good and reliable; otherwise I might as well put a target on my ass. So the three of us have been good students for the past weeks, only having fun during the after school time.

"I hate you so much right now," Noodle broods, his good mood vanished.

Yes because being good means that we can't use, at least not during the day; and Norman doesn't use after school because he's afraid of slipping in front of his father. He doesn't mind going through the whole day at school but the other kids here put him under stress because every now and again he get picked on, and the way he stays above it all is by using.

"I'm hurt," I state flatly.

"Well fuck you Lee," he replies vehemently. "Because frankly I don't give a damn about your piggy tail"

"Aren't you feisty today," I say with an even voice.

"Your little screw up didn't come at a right time," he reproaches me.

"It's not exactly like I had planned it, is it?" my tone is sharp.

"Yet, we are paying for it…"

"Hey, you don't seem to have such a hard time when you're the one screwing up," I cut him off. "Even less when I'm the one getting you out of trouble, so tune your attitude down."

"That's easy for you to say, you don't have goons breathing down your neck…"

"Every one takes a chill pill," Jaz intervenes calmly. "Noodle, stop whining you sound like a junky," her tone is icy cold. "Lee will make it up to us, so suck it up and take it like a man okay?"

If I didn't hate Sara Sidle before I'd hate her right now. Jaz just basically let me know with no ambiguity that I'd be paying the high price for this one. There's nothing more that I despise than being in debt toward anyone.

Lucky me I'm going to have way too much to think about to care about that problem just yet. I'm going to use this time to map out my playground again, I don't want another unexpected run in with someone like Sara, and I need to tighten the screws on my system, you know, make sure everything works the way it should.

I'm still ahead of the game though, and I've been thinking about ways to sort my 'Sidle problem'. It's going to take time and a game all in finesse from me, but I'll make Sara see things my way; better yet she'll be the new addition to my system. I need to be careful though because I have but very little room to operate.

I have no doubt I'll pull things off the way I want to though, I'm brilliant and there's absolutely nothing I can't achieve once I set my mind on it.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Linds' POV_

"Hey sweetie," mom greets me with a kiss.

"Hey mom," I reply cheerfully.

"How was your day?"

"It was alright," I shrug. "I'm loaded with homework."

She nods before getting the car in motion. "Did you have any test?"

"No… I was sent to the board in math, but I did okay."

"Glad to hear it," she smiles.

My mother doesn't need much from me to be happy, good grades for one, and a good communication between us. Of course now and then I give her a little attitude, if I was too good she'd know something was up. I mean I'm a teenager after all.

I give her a loose tale of my day, mostly talking about what I've observed for my days are uneventful but I manage to make her laugh and we talk about everything and nothing; she tries to be involved as much as possible in my life, letting me know she's there for me.

I appreciate it, though I'm handling thing fairly well on my own.

"How was your day?" I return her earlier question.

"I cleaned around the house, did the groceries, rest a bit… nothing really interesting."

"Are you working tonight?"

"No, but Bart is coming for dinner," her smile widens.

Awesome…

I hate the guy, but for some reason he's good for my mother. He takes care of her, makes her laugh and he's been sticking around so far. And like I always remind myself, I'm not the one dating him, if mom's like him so be it, I'll make the efforts I need to not to spoil whatever they have.

There was a time where I put mom's partners to shame. I mean I didn't bother being nice; thing is, I know that mom will always pick me above her partners, so I figure I'd cast the partner I like the most. That was before I understood that mom was alone and more even, she was lonely; she yearns for companionship, and at the end of the day, when I thought I had the right to throw the idiots out of mom's life, I realized that she was the one hurting. She has needs I can't fulfil, all she wants is to have someone she cares about and who cares about her in return, someone she can lean on and so on, who cares if I don't like the idiot?

"Cool," I force a natural smile on my face.

Mom likes him a lot, apparently he's a gentleman, he's kind and good; he doesn't smother her or treat her like his thing. They've been dating for nine months, and he's been subtly invading my house for the past three. He's an idiot, selfish, arrogant and not funny; at least from my point of view; again since I'm not the one dating him and he makes her happy therefore I grit my teeth and suck it up.

I spend a little time with my mom, then her lover arrives earlier than he should have because 'he couldn't wait to see her', I excuse myself not to barf in the middle of the living room at the display of so much mushiness and go in my bedroom.

When I emerge from my room, mom is in the shower getting ready, while Bartholomew is on the couch watching the television. I go to the kitchen and scan the fridge for something to drink. I sigh silently when I hear movement behind me, knowing that it's the loser who has followed me, thinking that it'd be good for him to try and win me over.

Like that was ever going to happen.

They say girl see the men the way they see their father. Well my father, once out of his father role was a bit sleazy… I know, not a good thing to say, but just stating the truth. I've seen all the sides of my father and I can say that he was doing things not always the right way; maybe it was because of his acquaintances, in any case some times he was like a petty thug. A shrink might say that it's the reason why I see all grown up men with a weary eye.

And when it comes to Bartholomew… I don't have a fatherly, protective vibe out of him. At times I could swear that his eyes are scrutinizing me the wrong way, with a dirty after thought; which gives me even more reason not to like him. Not that I believe he's conscious of his small primal slips or that he'll ever do something about it, but I still don't like how his mind work.

"Hey, Linds, what's up?" he tries to sound younger than he is.

"Nothing much, Bartholomew," I reply, when I face him with a can of sparkling water.

"You know, you can call me Bart."

"You can call me Lindsey, Bartholomew."

He purses his lips, and his joyful mask falls. He doesn't care much about bonding with me, or having a surrogate father/daughter relationship; actually most of the time I'll be asked to play dead or to stay out of the way. Since he keeps mom busy and thus giving me time to care about my own business, I don't fight him much; at least for now.

"If you don't mind I have better to do than idle and useless chit chat that none of us actually cares about," I say before passing him by. He grabs my wrist, but lets go immediately once I glare coldly at him. "Don't ever do that again," I warn him.

"Come on, I'm just trying to make things work here. I'm here to stay; so we should try to warm up to each other. For your mother's sake," he adds thinking he'll strike an emotional chord.

"I'm already as warm as I'll ever be with you, get used to it, Bartholomew."

It is an ugly name on him, he obviously thinks so himself; even more reason for me not to call him 'Bart'. I have to suffer him because he's my mom's boyfriend and she likes him; but I haven't made it a secret to him: he's not my father, won't ever be seen as one, won't even be called a friend.

"Suit yourself," he shrugs. "It's your loss after all," he gives me a sly grin just one the line between friendly and… _over_ friendly.

"Right," I reply impassively before moving to my room again.

I have to emerge once more just long enough for the three of us to share a meal. Those fake family moments take lot of energy from me, because I have to pretend that I like the prick. I must say that Bartholomew is setting a new record, he's one of the few, if not the only one, I despise a little more every time I have to see his face.

Mind you, Mom doesn't notice much when he's around, her 'lovey-dovey' vision pretty much blocks everything else out. It's only about how good and charming and perfect 'Bart' is. Most of my efforts are dedicated to controlling my gag reflexes; Mom and Bart are way too sugary… I mean pet names are flying around and it's only because they need oxygen still that their lips are disconnected from time to time.

I skip dessert explaining that I have a lot of homework, therefore the sooner I get to it, the better. I wait for mom to come in my room to check if I'm alright and that homework is indeed the only thing in my mind. Once she's satisfied, she kisses my crown and wishes me a good evening – she'll be busy with the loser for the rest of it. Once the door is closed again, I let five minutes pass by before flipping the pages of my physics book until I reach the page forty two. A small thin paper like red and blue piece of material is taped to it. I take off the tape carefully and unwrap it from its protective cellophane.

I take a paper leaf with the rough draft of some exercise and crush it in to a ball before hiding the cellophane in it and putting the ball into the trash bin. I take the red and blue piece of material and put it on my tongue. Anticipation flutters in me at the first sparkle of acidic taste turns effervescent on my muscle. I take a deep breath as if to fill my body with my 'candy'.

I plug my earphones into my stereo and lie down in my bed, a wide smile playing on my lips as I step into YES' roundabout.

Oh yeah, I'm in my zone now.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone, thanks for the reviews. I'm experiencing a bit of a block with Shrink II so I figured I'd post something.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**Ps:** Immi **as always thanks for the input.**

KGJ** the answer on chap 6 **_**is**_** 42, the way I wrote it was as follow: (-30+('root square'****81x78)) / (8x2). '-30' being part of the numerator of the division, and not a lone term for an addition afterward (hope I'm clear enough in my reasoning).  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

_Linds' POV_

My sentence has finally come to an end. My tail has stopped showing up two weeks after my discussion with Jaz and Noodle, and just to be certain that he wouldn't come back I waited an extra week because in my opinion you can never be too careful.

Now, I'm free to go as I please, just like I used to. And I think it's more than time for me to skedaddle out of here. As I'm walking toward my tutor's office I notice a boy approaching the same door, our gazes meet for a few seconds but that's all it takes for me to know that I have his attention. He gives me a quick one over, and as we reached the door at the same time, he grins a bit.

"Ladies first," he holds his hand toward the door to invite me to go before he does.

I glance at him one last time before entering the office, as Casey – my tutor – invites me in.

Casey's brown eyes light up when he sees me. "Hey Trouble," he greets me. "A month and a half without seeing you, I was starting to get worried," he smirks.

"I thought I'd say hello to my teachers," I reply. I dig a hand in my backpack and pull a book out of it. I extend it to him with a wink. "Excellent thriller, especially the 13th chapter."

He grins widely "I can't wait to read it."

Casey is in his early twenty, working as a tutor here; he's also a college student. We've always had a relaxed, friendly relationship, I mean he tried to tell me how classes were good but eventually understood that it was the wrong angle with me. As chance would have it, we met outside of school at a party. We shared drinks, and some other funny things. Let me say here that he's handsome and I wanted him, so I made a move, we kissed… and laughed our asses off right after the kiss. The sexual tension vanished right then, the kiss was 'pleasant', but that was that. We've been great mates ever since.

As my tutor he should hold me in school, but I give him 'candies' and he covers for me while I run free.

"So what are you up to?"

"I'm going to make up for the wasted month… or not so wasted," we chortle at my pun.

"We ought to get out together, it's been long," he states and I nod. "I might have a plan for Friday."

"Even if you don't have a plan we can work it out," I smirk with a suggestive wave of my eyebrows and he rolls his eyes before chuckling. "There's… someone at your door," I inform him.

"I got it," he winks at me. He stands from his desk while I move to the door that is on my right. I can hear Casey asking the boy at the door to go see something for him in the next corridor.

I chuckle.

"Alright, you got five minutes," Casey informs me as he comes back in.

"See you on Friday," I wink at him before entering the adjacent room. It used to be a class room but now for some reason it's used as a storage room for furniture. I close the door behind me and hear Casey locking it; I open the window and throw my backpack on the floor before following the same path.

Casey's office is the most strategic. It's close to trees, on the back side of the school and most importantly, there's a spot where the wire fence is broken. It's not a big enough opening to be obvious, but with a little wiggling you can get through without too much trouble.

I walk with a purpose, I feel exceptionally social today, so I decide to go see someone before hanging around in the city.

After a short bus travel and a walk I arrive in the heart of the city. I enter one of the buildings and spot someone I know before walking to them.

"Hey, Topher," I greet the young receptionist.

"Goldilocks," he smirks.

"You know, since I'm in a good mood, I'll let that one slide."

"Ooh, lucky me," he chortles.

"Announce me, smarty pants," I demand, with a small shake of my head.

He picks up the phone and dials one key. "A Miss Nichols is asking to see you, sir," he declares.

There's a reason why he called me by a name that isn't mine, they have the directive never to reveal my identity for I could be used as leverage for someone malevolent against their boss; and I have the strict order to only talk to the member of the staff that I know – four people all in all.

"Yes, sir, right away," Topher replies after a few seconds. He stands up and informs his co-worker that he'll be back in ten minutes or so. He comes on the other side of the counter then makes a slight motion with his head for me to follow him, we walk to the private elevator and get in.

"So… have you been reading lately?" a smile immediately splits my lips at his question.

I take a book out of my bag and hand it to him. "Yep," I reply.

He read the synopsis then cracks the spine of it and pretends to read the first page. When he gives me the book back it's slightly heavier than before. The more exciting part of 'talking books' with Topher is that it all happens inconspicuously in front of cameras. "It looks interesting, but let me know if it's any good."

I've always been an avid reader, but my passion has greatly increased ever since I learnt to enjoy the evasion they provide. Of course I have other ways to have fun, I'm still in control of everything, but 'reading' is one of my favorite. I can't wait to be on my own and see what little treat Topher provided me with.

The elevator comes to a halt with a ring and the doors open to the suite. Topher walks in front of me and as per usual I wait at the entrance of the living room. "Miss Nichols, sir," he states politely.

"Ah, thank you Topher," I can see a hand putting a bill swiftly into the front pocket of his jacket, then Topher turns around and winks at me on his way out. I walk into the wide and luxurious space, the thick carpeted floor muffle the sound of my footsteps.

"Fluff," an enthusiastic voice instantly greets me.

I growl a bit, granted he's the only one I allow to call me that; and it was either that or having him calling me 101 different sugary names so I let him pick one and stick to it.

"Gramp…" I sigh and roll my eyes even though it's mostly for show.

"Hey now, don't call me old," Sam Braun replies with a feigned scold.

"Yeah, yeah. You're still a young thing," I joke.

I let him hug me and kiss my forehead, then we sit onto one of his large and _very_ comfortable couches. A man in an elegant suit comes out of a room next door. "Mister Braun… oh, hello there," he smiles at me.

"Hello, sir," I reply politely.

"Mister Braun, I wish to have a word with you about the new cameras we should get for the main rooms," the man pursues.

"It'll have to wait a little more Kenny, right now I have more important business to attend to," Sam winks at me.

"Yes, sir," the man replies before excusing himself and leaving the room.

Sam turns to me and gives me his undivided attention. "I am really glad to see you. It's been a while."

"I know, I didn't want to bother…"

"Now, now what did I say? You never bother me," he pats my head affectionately. "So, how have you been?"

"I've been good, I promise."

"How is school?"

"Gramp…"

"What? I'm just asking…" he raises his hand in surrender.

"We've been through this already, I showed you my scores, I have those grades by myself. I'm doing really good and I barely go there, so please let's not go down that road again."

"Calm down Fluff," he chuckles. "You know that as a responsible adult I have to make sure you do the right thing, which means going to school. As happy as I am to see you, I'm concerned about your future," he continues. "Now, I've been young myself and school wasn't my favorite place either, so as long as you keep your grades up I won't bring that subject up again."

"Deal," I smile "So how have you been?"

We start to talk about everything and nothing, I must say that Sam is the only adult in my life with whom I'm completely honest with. I'm not dumb, and I've heard mom said that he was a not so 'clean' businessman, yet when he's with me he's just my granddad. Sure I don't mention my recreational reading, but I do speak to him openly and he does advise me soundly.

I value even more our relationship because if it wasn't for me coming to see him I'd never get to have contact with him. He's kind with me and when I'm with him, he gives me his full attention, he's the only father figure I have and we can say everything about him, about his business, but he's a good man when it comes to family and that's all that matters to me.

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"Anything for my favorite girl," he grins broadly.

"Would there be any opportunity for me to work? Be a receptionist or even work within your staff, anything I can do outside of the casino area."

"How much money do you need?" he puts his hand in his inside vest.

"It's not what I'm asking. I'm asking if I could get a small job, not if you could give me money," I reply with irritation.

"I'm not going to let no granddaughter of mine work if I can help it," he informs me softly. "Just tell me how much money you need and I'll give it to you."

"I just want to make a little money for myself, but I want to earn it."

"Why do you need the money?" he frowns.

"Shopping," I say sharply before rolling my eyes. "I just want a little money to go out and buy CD, I don't know. I'm a teenager," I shrug.

He looks at me suspiciously then sighs. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. It's one thing for you to come here to see me, your mother will have my head on a platter if she ever found out. I can't let you work anywhere near any of my casinos, first you're underage and then your mother will torture me before killing me."

"Alright, thanks for considering."

"Listen, I could give you some kind of allowance and…"

"No thanks," I cut him. "I want to earn my money. You should know that nothing comes for free."

He looks at me with a little pride. "Fair point," he rubs his jaw, sign that he's trying to come up with a solution that will make the both of us satisfied. "You know I'm a demanding man, and if you work for me I need to know that you will take it seriously."

"I can live with those terms and you have my promise that I will work hard and seriously."

"I think the website of the casino needs to be upgraded; new design, new look, easy and clear access so that even people like me who aren't that into technology can be able to use it without feeling lost. Do you think you can manage that?" his tone is business like.

"Of course, it'll take time but I can do it."

"This way you can work, but you don't have to set a foot around here. Anything you need, software, computers, drawing artist, anything and anyone that can help you, you tell me and I'll provide. I want a full report twice a month to know how it is going. The first signs of you slacking off, you'll be fired; if your grades slip the slightest bit, you'll be fired. I'm firm but fair and I don't joke with my business, so if you feel that you won't be up to the task you say it now."

"I can do it, trust me and you won't regret it."

He seizes me up then extends his hand to me, he waits for me to grab it to speak again. "We are now officially in business."

I smile like the Cheshire cat, I love when things go smoothly the way I want them to. I share a lunch with Sam then I leave because he has to work; he walks me out of the building and orders his driver to drop me off wherever I need to go.

Since I feel confident from the recent turn of event I decide to tackle my only problem up front. I ask Teddy to drop me off at Sara Sidle's address, he waits for me to get into the building before driving away. Lucky me the code hasn't changed since I last came over a month ago.

Two minutes later I'm at her door ringing her bell; even with her thick door close I can hear a muffled curse which only serves to put a grin on my face.

"Don't tell me, Hell is overpopulated so you had to come back, is that it?"

I fake a laugh. "Wow, somebody ate a clown today," I reply before pushing my way in. "You missed me?"

"Oh yeah, like one misses cancer."

"I'm glad to see you too,"

"Don't get yourself comfortable," she instructs me.

I ignore her and drop my bag near her couch then seat down crossing my feet on her coffee table. "I thought we could hang out."

"Look who's joking now," she chuckles humourlessly. She walks until she's facing me. "I'll ask it once," she warns me "Leave."

"Or what?" I defy her with a smirk.

Without adding any word she comes and grabs me by the arm, forcing me to a standing position, she grabs my bag with her other hand before walking the both of us back to the door.

"Now, now what are you doing?" I'm a bit taken aback by her reaction yet I can't help laughing a little.

"Shoving you out of the door, that should be obvious for someone as smart as you pretend to be."

"I don't think so, now get your hands off me or I'll scream," I tell her seriously, my anger is flaring up, if there's one thing I loath it's to be handled. I resist her grip and stop walking.

"Yeah I've heard that song before," she simply replies starting to walk to the door again.

I resist her once more, stopping us a few feet from the door "My, my, you're standing your ground. Progress, impressive," I pout with admiration. "Just tell me this, how do you think my mother will react at the bruises you're obviously leaving on my arm."

"She can't react to what she doesn't know," she smirks at me smugly.

"So you're really going to shove me out, leaving me in this city on my own?" I'm not the least impressed by her confidence.

"My heart is breaking in pieces at such a thought," she feigns hurt. "On the other hand I'll survive since I couldn't give a damn about what happens to you," she drags me until she can reach the knob.

"You're bluffing," I scrutinize her. I don't know her very well, but I know enough to be sure that she wouldn't let me go like that if she could help it, she's too compassionate for that.

"Oh yeah? Watch me," she laughs bitterly before opening the door a few inches. She doesn't open the door any more and I smile, I knew it, she was bluffing.

I chortle. "See? All talk, no walk… pathetic," I state smugly.

"Actually… I was just taking a second to enjoy this moment; the moment I'm shoving you out knowing that I don't have to feel any scruple about it, and all this thanks to you," she laughs softly.

My smile falters a bit, I realise only now that I might have misjudge her compassion and her limits. "It seems that you have overseen the very best part of your oh-so-well elaborated system," her smile widens with a mean glow. "It works both ways," she informs me with satisfaction.

She's wrong, I have covered that angle, but I never thought she'd actually use that card. I have misjudged her obviously.

"I could call your mom and yet people would assure her that you're at school, therefore since you're not here, I can't be responsible for something I'm not doing. And please feel free to call your mother to complain," she smirks.

She opens the door, throw my backpack on the threshold and is about to do the same with me. "You're seriously going to throw me out?"

"No, I'm _gladly_ going to," she replies with wit, effectively shoves me out. "Good trip back to hell and please forget to send me a postcard."

With those words she slams the door into my face which makes me recoil slightly. My shock is quickly overcome with a cold and controlled anger. I admit defeat, but I'm not going to surrender.

I never thought it'd happen but I guess she's coming back to the score, that's 2-1 for me. I smirk once I'm over the shock of what just happened.

Feisty and hard to get…

I like that.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for the reviews. I'm back with two chapters to compensate the long delay.**

**Enjoy**

**So ;)**

**Ps: **TJ** the answer as to what Lindsey's agenda is will come soon.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

_Sara's POV_

My concentration is disturbed by soft knocks on the frame of the door. I make a head movement to acknowledge my visitor without tearing my eyes from the giant jigsaw puzzle in front of me.

"My super senses told me there was a puzzle around," Catherine's voice resounds cheerfully.

Ever since her outburst about my 'prank call' concerning Lindsey's whereabouts two months ago we have had rather cold interaction, meaning we'd greet each other curtly, speak only if work demanded it and that'd be it; a bit like in the old days when we had our first arguments.

I gave her space and time; to her I committed a cardinal sin 'reaching out for Lindsey in order to get to her' so it was no surprised that she's been cold as ice to me, she is a momma bear and anyone who has ever watched the discovery channel knows never to mess with a cub.

The algid air between us wasn't only her doing though, I was pissed. I was pissed off that the brat she has for a daughter did me in twice and that in the end I was the one getting burnt, but then I considered that Catherine had the worse position; she doesn't really know that her own flesh and blood is playing her like a violin and I can say first hand that Lindsey is quite the maestro.

I was also angry about the fact that Catherine and I took a big step back because of this. I came to really appreciate our relationship, we talk more, we confide into one another, we can count on each other, we are great friends; even though sometimes we clash we always try to work things out, or like this time we give each other space. I care for our friendship even more because it was hard to get there in the first place, so to have Lindsey wiping all of that carelessly pissed me off to no end.

I thought that everything was ruined for good, but the fact that Catherine is now standing in the doorway of the lab I'm working in, a shy smile playing on her lips and her playful greeting lets me know that we're back on tracks; something which I'm grateful for.

"Your super senses or a bird named Grissom?" I ask with a smirk.

"My super senses, woman of little faith," she jokes back. "How is it going?"

"As arsons do, it's going rather smoothly so far," I shrug. "Slow shift?" I go on not wanting to cut our first friendly contact short.

"To say the least, paperwork is done and I've been looking around in the different labs to see how everybody is doing, yours is the last stop," she informs me. "Well, it was… you told me it was going alright, so…" she motions the corridor with a tilt of her head.

"You'd leave a puzzle?" I tease her. "I could use a fresh pair of eyes," I try to convince her.

"I can lend you four if you count my glasses," she jokes bitterly. I know she hates the fact that she has to wear glasses because she takes it as a sign of the passing time; I personally find her very sexy with them on, not that I ever told her.

"Sweet," I chuckle.

She walks to the other side of the table and leans over it. She digs her hand in the pocket of her white coat and takes out a pair of gloves; she crosses her fingers then balls her fists until she's comfortable in the latex. "What do you need me to do?"

"I've already logged everything, just look for the usual suspects," I grin and wink at her before returning to my observation.

I give her details of the case and answer any question she has, then we work in comfortable silence for a little more than an hour before one of us finds something interesting.

"Say you love me," she demands as she beams at the small piece of metal in her hand.

I know she's joking yet my heart skips a bit. "You love me," I reply after a short pause.

She sighs and rolls her eyes with exasperation. "I found a sticky green-blue substance."

I make my way around the table to get next to her and look through the magnifying glass she's holding, indeed she found an unknown substance.

"Alright, you won, I love you," I smirk. I like arsons but it's always hell to find evidence in the middle of burnt things.

I squint a bit and get closer to her so our shoulders are touching. I have a small absence when the scent of her shampoo and skin fills my nostrils. I shake my head into focus and take the evidence in my own hand.

"I'm going to test it might be the combustible."

"Or it could be blue soap," she deadpans.

"Thank you to raise my hopes up."

She turns to look at me and laughs, since I haven't moved from my position our faces are too close for my comfort because my eyes flicker to her lips for a split second.

Yes, things between Catherine and I didn't work out, but it doesn't mean that I stopped being attracted to her, at least my body didn't have that specific memo. In good days, I manage to keep that attraction under control but sometimes it spikes up. Considering that we have barely had any interaction for the past two months and that suddenly everything is fine again I'm inclined to give myself some slack for my sensory overload.

The funny part of those momentary slips is that sometimes I even believe that she's still attracted to me; like right now for instance, she's staring back at me and I'm pretty sure her body is saying that she wants me.

"Hello?"

"Sorry, what?" I come out of my lust filled haze.

"I asked what you were thinking about, you spaced out, I figured that brain of yours must have come up with something," she smirks.

It hadn't… now I have visuals I wish I could block out right now because they are not anywhere near appropriate, damn hormones.

"Actually, no; it was my 'brain fart' expression. I'm back," I joke.

The glint in her eyes combined with the velvety sound of her laughter makes my heart flutter. "I should get to trace," I inform her, I have the good sense to take a step back to break the spell she has unknowingly cast on me.

"And I should make another round," she takes her gloves off.

I go back to my original position on the other side of the table. "Thank you for the help," I smile at her then focus on my evidence when I see her walking to the door; her footsteps stops abruptly which makes me look up to understand what made her come to a halt.

"Is that it?" her question makes me frown. She's obviously amused by my confusion, I don't know what she put in her coffee today, but she is in a teasing mood – not that I'm complaining. "Thank you is all I get?" she elaborates. "Arson case, I probably solved your case," she pauses with a small pout. "Don't I get some sort of treat?" she bites her bottom lip.

Oh.

"Do you have plan after shift?" I ask tentatively.

"Depends on what you offer, then I might."

"Breakfast?"

She feigns to consider my proposition. "You got yourself a date…" she chuckles at my expression. "A deal, you got yourself a deal," she winks at me then walks away.

I like Catherine a lot, but more times that not I'm not sure on what foot I'm supposed to stand on. I enjoy that confusion and the fact that it's always spontaneous, but I wouldn't be against some regularity.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Sara's POV_

How much can you forget about someone in two months?

This question has been on repeat in my head for the past two hours. I've always liked Catherine's company, but now after a long withdrawal that realisation hits me like a truck at full speed; I like her laughter, there's something in it that makes it contagious; and I like talking to her, confiding in her for I do feel completely at ease in her presence.

Catherine finishes laughing, catching a tear with the back of a finger, "Alright, stop it because my stomach is starting to hurt."

"Hey, you started it," I defend myself.

She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her coffee, when she looks at me again her expression is sombre. I don't have time to ask her what's wrong when she puts her mug back on the table and slide on the booth from a quarter turn to the right so she's at my side and not in front of me.

She looks at me nervously and takes a deep breath. "I know that I can be stubborn and proud…"

"Really?" I feign surprise, she makes a tiny grin as if to tell me that even though she's not saying anything new she's trying to be serious and that it's hard enough without me joking around.

"Yes, I'm stubborn and proud," she repeats. "I know that I can justify rationally my distance and coldness of those past weeks… but…"she trails off. "I missed you," she blurts out. "A lot," she adds.

Warmth spread through me when her hand rests on the top of mine. Why is it today, when my hormones and body have decided to test my resistance to self combustion that she has decided to be very touchy and breach the boundaries of personal space?

It's just her hand on mine, it's not the first time she has this gesture with me, and yet I feel like a teenager on a crush; her thumb circles the back of my hand in a smooth motion. "Our relationship means a lot to me and I hope those last weeks haven't ruined everything between us."

She sends me a hopeful glance as if to beg me not to shut her out. I grin shyly. "We're good, don't worry," I assure her.

She lets out a breath of release. "I'm glad to hear it," she squeezes my hand a bit. "So… can we pick up where we left off?"

"Of course," I beam.

She doesn't let my hand go even when we change topic. We try to catch up with each other and what we did in the past weeks.

"How is it going with you and… Brad?" My hand becomes suddenly cold, the lack of contact seems abrupt somehow; for a moment I curse myself for bringing the topic on the table, the atmosphere which was relaxed and friendly is now charged with an uncomfortable tension.

"Bart as in Bartholomew," she corrects me. "Hum… it's going alright," she states with little enthusiasm. "He's nice."

"Nice? That's all?" I query.

"Well… the novelty of the two of us getting together has worn off so…"

"I see, honeymoon's over, ordeal of fire is starting, uh?" I joke.

"Yeah, it's going rather well so far, but you know, it's more demanding now."

"As long as he makes you happy," I shrug.

"That's still early to talk about happiness…" she whispers. "But I guess we are on our way there, at least I hope," once again her lack of enthusiasm is palpable. "What about you?" she asks. "Anyone in your life…?"

"There is actually," I confess timidly.

"Oh," she clears her throat, her smile is a bit less bright than seconds ago, I could swear that for a split second she looked hurt. "They have a name?"

"Robyn, she's a thirty something strawberry blonde with green eyes; she works as an engineer in chemistry… hum she's nice."

Catherine nods before looking away. "Is it serious?"

"We're just getting started, you know, hanging around, going out every now and then," I shrug. "We haven't laid things down and I don't know if you can call it proper dating. Sure we kissed a few times but like I said we're just getting started, testing the water so to speak. She's a tough shell to crack though."

Catherine chortles. "Look who's talking."

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad."

"No you're right… that'd be an understatement in your case."

"Bite me," I stick my tongue at her. "Truth to be told I think we didn't start on the best omen. It was going fine but I received my first strike the day we met," I wince.

"Really? What did you do?"

"I…" I'm just about to dive in head first when I realize that the reason why my first impression with Robyn turned wrong was because Linds was at the party, wasted, drunk and ready to wrinkle the sheet with an older young man. "We were talking, then something came up and I had to leave abruptly… I explained myself afterward and she understood my point but… still I think it's the reason why she kept a safe distance between us."

"You like her?"

"She's nice, she has a quiet temper, terrible jokes but we still manage to have fun; I enjoy her company."

"That's good…" she declares before looking at her watch. "Oh wow, we've been there for about two hours, we should go home and get some sleep."

"Yeah," I agree and ask for the check.

It's true that we've been here for long, but I feel like something had changed suddenly. I'm taken aback but I put it on the fact that I could have go on talking for hours; it's the first time in months we get to do this and I'm just a bit greedy for the exclusive time; besides it's not like she's running away from me, she might just be tired, even though she does appeared agitated and hurried to leave now.

Another hypothesis would be that she probably had plans with her boyfriend and now she's in a hurry to meet him. That particular thought definitively break my cheery mood, go figure why, it's not like I had anything to reproach to the guy with.

Alright let's be honest, the thought of him and Catherine being intimate, is rather unpleasant in general but even more so today considering that my own body has been reacting to her presence and touch, therefore I think I'm having a misplaced tiny bit of jealousy crisis.

I walk her to her car first, wanting to make the moment last, she unlocks her it then turns around to face me. "Thanks for inviting me," she states.

"Thanks for helping me on my arson."

She opens her door of her car but doesn't climb in immediately, instead she turns to me, seemingly waiting for something. For a moment I think she's about to speak but she just leans in and delivers a slightly lingering kiss on my cheek before going inside her car. I'm still surprised, hot and breathless when she drives away.

Oh darn… not again, not now.

I know those symptoms and they are everything but good.

I've never liked to dwell on the reasons why it didn't work, or on the choices I made when Catherine and I were trying to be together; actually I've never liked to dwell on anything that has to do with that time. I think that it's the reason why sometimes I have phases where I feel guilty and lovesick, like I had a bad crush on her. It comes and goes and I've learnt to live with it without paying too much attention to it, however I hate those phases. It's a constant battle with myself against my own thoughts and with my body against my desires and no I won't go down that road right now.

It's one thing to have those moments when I'm on my own, then I can blame temporary loneliness, it's another having it when I'm sort of in the middle of something and most importantly she's with someone in a well established relationship, because that could lead to awkwardness and unnecessarily strain our friendship.

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><p><strong>I shall be back with more in two days.<br>**

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	12. Chapter 12

**As promised, a new update.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

_Sara's POV_

I'm working under a car when I can't help the smile spreading on my lips as I hear distinctive footsteps coming closer.

"Hey Cath," I call out.

There's a snort and even though I can't see her I'm sure she's shaking her head in disbelief "Okay, that's slightly creepy, I didn't make any sound," she states clearly surprised by my deductions.

"I got skills, baby," I reply cockily. I slide down so I come out from under the vehicle so I can see her face and wink at her with a smile.

"Right," she smirks.

"What's up?" I stand up.

"I've ran the DMV, and it seems that our car has been reported stolen two days ago," she informs me.

"There was an oily brown liquid under the car at the crime scene so I checked and there's no leak; I checked the oil level too and it was normal," I declare.

"That's strange because the pool was quite important as I recall," she frowns.

"Yeah, I know," I scrunch my nose. "The stranger part is that there are oil spatters"

"Odd," she frowns.

"I also found some piece of tape as if someone had attached something there."

"Maybe it was temporary job to fix something, you know until the owner gets the money to bring the car to a garage," she offers.

"I thought so too, but what bothers me is that it's not duct tape, it's double-sided."

"We could brainstorm over a lunch," she proposes.

"I like that idea," I beam.

I'm glad for that proposition because yesterday's breakfast was far too short in my opinion, and I'm more than interested for some time with just the two of us. Catherine is easy to talk to, I'm not the confident type but she made me open up a bit more than anyone before because I know she's never judging me.

I clean up a bit, put my tools in order, bag and tag what needs to be analysed, and twenty minutes later I'm joining Catherine on the parking lot. I get in her car and she drives us away to 'our' diner. We order and immediately start discussing our case.

"What if it was a scheme?" I ask aloud.

"Car jacking?"

"Yeah, I mean we have tread marks from a vehicle we didn't recover at the scene. A fake oil leak…" I shrug. "It's just an idea."

"No, no, it could work… picture this, I bump into your car, or you make me bump into your car, oil flows out of your vehicle."

"I get upset and demand that we file the papers for the insurance," I follow her line of thoughts.

"I get out of my car and… get knocked out?"

"So I have an accomplice, someone to knock you out or at least take your car," I point out.

"You know how in the movie they use pouch that explodes for bloody wounds? What if it was the same with the oil. They tape the pouch under the car and make it explode at the right moment to lure the other driver out."

"And that would explain the oil spatters under the car," I agree. "Maybe murder wasn't on the menu, the victim fought back or the 'knocking out' blow was a bit too strong."

"It could be. We need to check the case of stolen cars see if…"

I find myself yawning, I cover my mouth immediately. "Sorry…" I apologize.

"It's the sixth time I see you yawning today, you do look exhausted. Rough night?" she asks with concerned.

Since we've slept together more than once, outside a sexual context, she knows that I don't always have blissful sleep; however this time my lack of sleep comes attached to a very pleasant moment.

"Not really… I…" I can feel myself blushing a bit, this is ridiculous. I clear my throat and get my wits together. "Well after we part yesterday, when I got home I found Robyn on my doorstep. She wanted to surprise me with a breakfast. We didn't have breakfast… but… hum… I had a short time to sleep," I guess my sheepish expression says enough about the reason why I stayed up.

I like Robyn, and I like hanging around with her. As I said it to Cath, we had made out a couple of times and it was great, but it was hard to know if either of us wanted more; and for once I'm glad to say that I'm not the one being super guarded, if possible she has a thicker skin than I do.

Yesterday, I was surprised to find her at my doorstep, she's not the most spontaneous person. She did say that she felt like getting out of her comfort zone for once. Anyway, I couldn't say how we came to be intimate for the first time, I remember talking and somehow it led to my bedroom. I don't regret that it happened, I think I'm rather happy with this new step we took, but it's still hard to know where we're going.

"Ah…awesome," Catherine gives me an awkward not so enthusiast smile. "Anyway, as I was saying, we should check the record for stolen car cases and see if it's a pattern, with a little luck it's probably an open case and we might have more evidence…" she gets back on track immediately.

I'm a bit taken aback by her behaviour, usually she'd grill me for details or at least tease me for some thing or another, right now it's like she was shutting a door on my face. I don't dwell on it though and take it in stride, telling her that I'll go see Brass after lunch.

The rest of the meal seems slightly colder than it had begun, we do share a few laughs but somehow I can feel that Catherine's heart isn't in it. We get back to work, parting ways, I go check the records while she goes to trace.

We meet again after several hours of work and she's in a good mood again, however when I offer her to have breakfast after shift she declines; I'm not too disappointed, I've had her for myself twice in a row, I can't be too greedy.

On second thought it's not really such a bad thing that she turned down my offer I could really use some rest.

xxxxx

I groan as I have to drag myself out of bed after a much too short time in bed. I put my grumpiness aside at the thought that it could just be Robyn, I remember talking about trying to meet today. There's actually a lazy smile on my lips at the thought, that smile is wiped clean off when I open the door though.

"Ow, I see we're making progress, you almost managed to keep a smile when you saw me," Lindsey states with a fake grin.

I don't bother answering and simply slam the door shut again before returning to bed. She keeps knocking for a certain time but I just bury my head under a pillow and focus to block the sound out long enough for me to fall asleep again.

I swear she's lucky she's Catherine's kid, or I'd find a way to get away with her disappearance.

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><strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, there, thanks for the reviews. And to answer why Linds is the central character with Sara... well I guess at the time I just thought it was a good challenge :P ,anyway.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

_Sara's POV_

"You seem tired lately," Catherine states after glancing at me before returning her attention to the road.

"Yeah…I don't sleep much," I shrug tiredly.

She snorts. "The joys of new intimacy, uh?" I frown, thinking that I detect a hint of disappointment in her voice, but tired as I am, I could be wrong.

"Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell," I smirk. "But if you must know, she's not the one keeping me up."

"Are you telling me that you're seeing someone else?" she looks at me with astonishment.

I chortle "Please, you know how much I suck at entertaining one relationship, so two is definitely too much for me."

She stays silent for a moment and at the stoplight she looks at me with concern. "You know, I'm here if you need to talk about anything," she reminds me.

"Thanks… there's not much to talk about, I'm just in a… bad phase of insomnia," I lie.

Actually, my insomnia has a name: Lindsey. She has decided to come around at my place at random time, knocking on my door for hours, no matter how many times I turn her down, she comes back. I'm decided to stand my ground, but that means sacrificing my already light sleep.

I want to talk to Catherine about that, I've even thought about inviting her to a breakfast at my place so as to catch Lindsey in action, but at the same time I've learnt not to underestimate Lindsey and I really don't want to put strain on my relationship with Catherine again.

And hell, she's a bloody teenager, I can't let her wind me up.

xxxxx

I've tried to ignore the constant knocking and focus on my book but I can't anymore. In the constant battle of will between Lindsey and me, I must say that she's tough. She can stay behind my door for two hours straight, knocking without a pause; of course she varies the frequencies of her knocking so as not to get bored I suppose but she can keep at it for a long time, a _very_ long time.

It's been going on for about five weeks now. At first I'd open, but eventually I got used to the idea that it was always her, therefore I just started to keep going on with my life while she used the skin of her knuckles against the thick wood of my door. I don't even pretend I'm not here, she knows I'm inside which is why she knocks for hours on end. At first, I thought she'd get the hint and eventually stop coming back, but that was a wistful thinking obviously. I know she's aware that she's not welcome, just like I know that she won't stop until I give in.

I want to stand my ground but it is quite an irritating circus; I mean at first she'd come at random time, two maybe three times a week, sometimes she wouldn't come at all. If I had had breaks I could have taken this longer, but Robyn has been away some two weeks after we initiate the physical side of our relationship, some research project; had she been there my little battle of will with Lindsey would have turn short, or I would have find it in me to hold on longer since she'd have provided some time out from this twisted game.

I think Lindsey realized that I was determined to ignore her just as much as she was to make me break, so she changed strategy two weeks ago, she came _every_ single day.

I don't really think that under those circumstances I can be blamed for losing it a little bit and I think that fantasising on the different ways to make her disappearance look like an accident is a sure indication that I have to face her once for all, see what she wants before getting rid of her for good.

I sigh heavily and stand up from my couch, I open the door harshly, then walk back inside again. I don't need to look, I know that she's taken aback by the fact that I'm actually inviting her in, but I also know that her surprise has quickly been replaced by smugness; after all, she won this round.

It takes almost a minute but eventually she walks inside and locks the door behind her.

"And so I make it through the door," she declares with a satisfied smile. "I must say you've exceeded my expectation, I was giving you two weeks, you held on for almost six," she chortles. She turns to me, her smile still firmly in place. "I have to know though, why did you open?"

"I can only get rid of a body behind a closed door, not through it," I reply flatly.

She just snorts with amusement. "Funny."

"Never said anything about joking," I move behind my kitchen counter. "Drink?"

"I'll have a beer," she answers before letting herself falling on the couch.

I take a bottle out of the fridge, put it in front of her on the coffee table then sit down in the armchair next to the couch.

"Sparkling water… figures," she sighs. She reaches for the bottle and takes a sip. "So, how have you been?"

"The only reason I let you in is to know your price," I cut the chase.

"My price?" she frowns. "I'm not sure to understand."

"Yes, you do. You've proven that you were like a parasite, resilient. We both know I don't want you here, yet you always come back, so what's your price?"

She loses her smile and the cold manipulative brat I've come to know surfaces. "There's no need to have such harsh words," she chastises me.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt your feeling?" I feign concern. "Oh right," I snap my fingers. "You'd have to feel something first for that to happen."

"Who would have thought you'd have so many jokes?" she smirks.

"The same person thinking you're innocent, I suppose."

She laughs a bit. "Nice one," she winks before drinking again. She becomes serious again and takes a deep breath. "Listen, I know we didn't start on the best basis…"

I snort. "Who's joking now?"

"Fair point," she concedes. "We've had the crappiest start, but I was thinking that we could put that behind us."

"Just tell me what you want so I can get rid of you."

"See, that's the thing, you _can't_ get rid of me."

"Yeah? Wait until I get my gun from my locker."

"I wind you up good, didn't I?" she gives me a shit eating grin.

"Go on," I give her a tight smile.

"The reason why I'm here is because I was thinking that you and I could hang out together. Actually, I want you to allow me to come around for two hours every now and then."

I take a second to process her request and a whole minute to realise that she's serious. "Are you under influence right now?"

"No, Sara, I'm not under influence," she replies with exasperation.

"And I'm not either, so what can possibly make you think that'd I'd be okay with you invading my personal space on regular basis when all I want is for you to leave me in peace?"

"Oh come on," she whines. "Listen, you don't like me much, that's a given. Can you get over it for a second? I mean we could have a great relationship."

I can't help the boisterous laugh escaping my lips; that kid will never cease to amaze me. "No, better yet, _hell_ _no_."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to have anything to do with you, I don't want to lie to your mother, I don't want to be a part of your scheme, I don't want to be responsible of you; take your pick. All I want is for you to forget me, even more I want you to stop coming around my place and knocking on my bloody door."

"I think we could get along, but you got to treat me like an adult."

"You're not an adult," I point out.

"You know, you're a fucking hypocrite for someone who doesn't care," she spits.

"Excuse me?" I look at her with surprise.

"I'm not mumbling," she says with irritation.

"Mind your language when you address to me, will you," my tone is as sharp as hers.

"I've been taking care of myself since I'm 8, and I think we've established that I'm good at it," she elaborates. "I don't need you to baby-sit me, much less take responsibilities regarding my person. As I said we can have an adult relationship, you mind your business, I mind mine and we meet in the middle."

"Let me think this through," I declare. "The trust is out of the window, and from the little I've seen from you, so is the benefit of the doubt where innocence is concerned," I count on my fingers then pout in appreciation. "Some relationship bases we have here."

"I didn't say anything about being friends," she points out.

"True, but you're asking for something besides outright antagonism, and that's out of the question."

"I'm just asking to come here for two hours, you won't know I'm here. You don't have to look after me, just treat me like any other adult… I'll play by your rule or whatever," she rolls her eyes.

"The answer is still no," I stand on my ground.

"Why?"

"I don't owe you any explanation, this is my space and I refuse to let you invade it. Why do you even want to come, anyway?"

"I like you."

"Yeah, right and I like you," I snort. "Try again."

"I think we could get along."

"Like a snowball and fire," I agree sarcastically. "Same player, shoot again."

She sighs heavily and looks away. "Bartholomew is moving in," I raise an eyebrow at her words not really getting the point. "If I come here for two hours, when I get back home there'd only be enough time for me to get diner and before going at my aunt's …" she adds. "He's the loser my mother is dating, I'd rather set my hair on fire than stay alone with him for exclusive time… damn, I'd rather hang out with you, that's to say something."

I study her for a moment and realise that she _is_ actually honest. I almost feel bad for the kid, almost, then I remind myself that she can be very manipulative. "I'm impressed, I almost fell for it, you're good."

"Oh screw you," she stands up.

"No, screw you Lindsey," my cold tone surprises her. I think she had tagged me as someone caring who would actually fall for the 'I have a bad situation at home' speech. Truth to be told, I would have cared had it been anybody else; but it's her, she's not an innocent girl who need to be looked after, she's a manipulative and cold person not caring about the consequences of her action anymore than she cares about anyone else but herself.

I'm not stupid; I know she has a specific motivation for being here and harassing me like she does, just like I know that she thought she'd strike my emotional chord with her 'Bartholomew's moving in' card.

"You expect me to feel bad for you? Boohoo, cry me a freaking river," I chuckle. "Honestly, I couldn't care any less about your feelings even if I tried. You don't like your mom's boyfriend, what do I give a shit?" I ask her seriously. As bad as it is for me to say, even if this was her real motivation I wouldn't be any more incline to have her invade my personal space.

Her face is suddenly contorted with unabashed anger. "You want to play it the hard way, fine. Truth is, you know my little secret and I need to keep a leash on you, it's all about covering my six," she says vehemently. "The lesson here is that you should have minded your damn business that night at the party. You got involved, now you're stuck with me. You think that those few weeks of me knocking on your door are the best I can do?" she chortles bitterly. "Try me, please, I'm dying to have fun."

"Finally," I fake a smile. "Honesty," she glares at me.

My very first assessment of her was right, she's used to have everyone wrapped around her little finger, she has lost the habit of having people resisting her. I can't stand to be pushed around, and the simple fact that she managed to play me so far pisses me off. Her deceiving behaviour and my naivety is a bitter pill that will be forever stuck in my throat and fuel the tension between us. "I really didn't think you had it in you," I pout with admiration.

"Oh you feel smart don't you? You're pathetic," she shakes her head and moves to my window.

"Aren't you adorable when you whine and pout like a five year old," I mock her. "I'm pathetic? I'm not the one begging here, am I?"

"I'm not begging!"

"Label it as you want sweetheart, but it sounds like begging to me alright," I shrug.

She's about to lose her temper again but then she tightens her lips and balls her fist. As suddenly as her anger had risen it vanishes; I can't help the small satisfaction I feel to have winded her up a bit, that kid is begging to be taken down a notch or two.

Her usual coldness is back, against all odds there's a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Are you done enjoying your petty revenge?"

I hate to admit that part of what makes me uncomfortable about that kid is that she reminds of myself, she's a projection of the adolescent me – and the young adult mind you; I was like her once, minus the manipulation skills. If I have grown up and opened up to the world around me, I can relate to the policy of not letting anything or anyone reach you. I remember on our first encounter she said that she was only caring about herself, and I can relate to that as well.

I don't caution what she does, but I can hardly lecture her. Yes, I'm an adult, I've grown up the hard way making mistakes after mistakes, getting wasted and such. My household used to be a grounded environment, then it all went to hell and from that point on my life has been a long downward spiral; it was years before I actually started to look up and find my marks in life.

I could tell Lindsey that I might not understand but I can, in a way, appreciate what she's going through, I probably would if I knew that it would somehow reach her, but I know that it'd be nothing but a waste of breath and time. She clearly thinks herself above everything and doesn't value interaction with anybody unless she can profit it somehow.

However, I am an adult and she's Catherine's daughter; and she's right on a point, I should have minded my own business the night I picked her up at the party. Now, whether I like it or not I am involved. I can't control her, but I can look after her; if not out of interest at the very least out of respect and affection toward Catherine.

The mere thought of having to be around Lindsey regularly makes my inside burn. I didn't particularly like the adolescent I was, even the less the young adult I was; and having Lindsey around is basically accept to have those part of me shoved back in my throat. Damn, I don't like this kid, why couldn't she be an adolescent without any major problem except the adolescent struggle about self acceptance? It's true what they say, familiarity does breed contempt.

Another thing, Lindsey's presence would force me to face again is my addiction to recreational 'medication'. Yes I've been sober for a long time, but it's one of those things you can never really shake permanently because it gripped you so deeply that it became a part of you.

I don't like the situation one bit. Yet, objectively I don't have much room to act responsibly. I can't reach Catherine and bluntly explain the situation, she wouldn't believe me for one and Lindsey showed me that she had covered everything so she wouldn't get caught. I know for certain that Lindsey won't give up bothering me until she gets what she wants from me, and frankly I don't want to see the extent of her devilish mind when she wants to be convincing.

I don't know if I'll ever manage to reach Lindsey, or if our interaction will ever be on healthy grounds, but for two hours at a time I know she's won't be using and I'll be able to keep an eye on her. At the same time I can try to find a way to talk to Cath and make her subtly understand that maybe she wants to pay a little more attention to Lindsey. If that plan doesn't blow up in my face, I should be fine.

Some big 'if'…

Once again, I want to kick my ass, one tiny decision and now I'm paying the price with interests…

I go to my fridge and grab a bottle of water for myself. "We both know that it's in your interest to accept my request," I hear her state calmly.

"What's in it for me?" Just because my hands are tied doesn't mean I can't save the appearances. "Clearly, we're not friends, so our association will be the closest to a business transaction. You get to invade my space for two hours, but what's in it for me?" I elaborate.

"I'm ready to play by your rules, that should be enough," she snorts.

"Not merely."

"What do you want then?"

"You tell me, what can you offer?"

She looks away and gives a thought to my question. "A dollar the hour," she answers after a full minute.

I snort. "Like I need money."

"We play by your rules, and I pay you a dollar for every hour I spend here, consider it a tax for any food or drink I might take out of your supply. I'll pay at least until we find something else I could give in return," she proposes.

I don't respond and simply go back to the couch. "Don't bother coming here if you're wasted; you don't use or drink alcohol or put yourself under any kind of influence when you're in my apartment," I edict the first rule.

"Despite what you think, I'm not a junky."

"Sure," I reply flatly. "I'm not at your disposition, if you want to come you have the correction to call me first and I'll let you know if it's okay."

"Agree, but if you try to do me over, I'll come anyway and you can forget the call."

"You don't invite anybody over; when you're here you make yourself as invisible as possible," she doesn't say anything but I take her silence as an assent. "We're not friends, but our association of fortune will be based on respect and honesty; also it's my place so I reserve myself the right to kick you out when I want to."

"If it makes you happy…"

"I'll edit those rules as we go along; my place, my rules," I inform her. Knowing her, she's already looking for the cracks in those negotiations, so keeping the power to edit the rules in the future gives me some guarantee that I'll manage to avoid let things get out of control.

"Anything else, your highness?"

"Yes, I like the three strikes rule. You have two already, so the next time you're messing up, we're done," I give her a syrupy grin. She chuckles at my statement which only irritates me.

"Wrong, I only have one," she points out.

I chortle. "I think you have memory problems."

"I don't," she fakes a smile. "I accept the first one, I did do you in. Now the second time is on you," she starts. "I apologized to you that day, admittedly I wasn't exactly dripping with sincerity, but I apologized; then I warned you about making a fool of yourself, it was not an attempt to do you in as you had the chance to see for yourself. You got burnt, but it's your fault, not mine," she argues. "You just defined our soon to be association of fortune as honest and respectful, add 'fair' to the list. I won't agree to your rules unless you take the second strike back."

Boy, do I hate this kid…

I guess I'll have to endure her longer than I had expected. Since I had considered her reckless and careless behaviour, I gave her about two or three weeks before being able to validly get rid of her, that was without counting on her negotiation skills.

"Fine," I concede.

She parades a shit-eating smile when she advances toward me with her right hand extended. "We are now officially associates of fortune."

"I'm overcome with joy," I reply sarcastically as I shake her hand.

"I have no doubt about it," she winks before breaking the contact. "I'll see you around then," she announces as she grabs her backpack and starts walking to the door.

"Wait, let me give you my numbers…"

She laughs. "Oh Sara pumpkin, I already have them," her tone lets me know that she had already a plan be if I had stood my ground and ignore her longer.

I have just made a deal with the devil.

Brilliant…

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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Lindsey's POV_

"Trouble!" Casey greets me with a hug. "I'm glad you made it," he puts one of his hands in the small of my back and walks me inside his house. "You remember everybody," he says rather than ask as silently salutes his friends.

"So what's the plan?" I ask with a smile.

I've always loved spending time with Casey, it's about hanging with older and cool kids, but it's also because he's funny as hell and intelligent. I have yet to spend a bad evening on his company.

"We're moving to a party once everyone is in the mood," he informs me as he pours a glass of soda. "Here's for you," he hands me the glass and takes something out of his pocket. "And here's your golden ticket," he winks at me.

I take two of the offered pills and down them in one go, the next thirty minutes are spent catching up with his friends and adjusting myself to whatever it is that I took. I trust Casey and he knows me enough to pick my poisons, what I like is that it's different every time.

The designated drivers take us to our destination, the mood is light and we are laughing a lot. I like the fact that they have all accepted me in their circle; even though I wouldn't necessarily hang out with Casey's friends outside of those kind of get-together, they are nice with me and it's genuine; I know they're not nice to me because Casey asks them to, they are because they like me; I had to prove myself and I passed.

We arrive at a big house where from the outside there seems to be a lot of people. Appearances weren't deceiving, the place is packed and those who aren't inside are in the wide backyard. People seem to all be around Casey's age range, which doesn't really matter to me anyway. It's loud and there's a lot going on, some are dancing, others are talking, some are playing video games, some are playing drinking games, and what not. I'm even ready to bet that some closed doors are hiding x-rated activities.

If I had been sober I wouldn't have stayed, I'm not really fond of crowded place and big parties, I don't mind it every now and then, but I tend to get bored pretty quickly. I stay with Casey and his friends which makes the night go quite well, I laugh and even go as far as dancing. Casey is like a big brother, he keeps an eye on me whenever I leave the group and checks that I'm alright often.

It's 1 a.m. when our little group decides that they have had enough, on a common agreement we decide to go to Tony's, the guy with a big apartment and a pool table, for a quieter party of our own.

The first car is already on the road. Casey is waiting in the next one for Declan and me; Declan went back inside to find his lighter and I'm just enjoying a little fresh air before leaving.

"Hey," I turn around and am facing the guy from school who I met at Casey's office door. Great.

I briefly wonder if the world has shrunk because it's the second time I meet people I loathe to see, first Sara, now him. Granted he's not a threat but I don't want to establish any connection with him or any student from my school for that matter; Jaz and Noodle are more than enough for me.

I just stare at him before looking away, if he's smart he'll take the hint. "I've been watching you…" he continues. I guess he's not that smart… or maybe just too inebriated. "And… I think we've met before… but I can't remember where," I still don't say anything. He waits for a few seconds and moves a bit closer to me, bending a little to catch my eyes. "Are you mute or something?"

I look at him blankly. "No, just not interested."

He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I don't want to bother… I'm just saying I think we've met… and I swear it's not some cheap pick up line."

"Yeah, I know," I simply say.

"So you do remember meeting me."

"Yeah, my memory works just fine."

"Okay," he chortles and wait expectantly, but I don't give in. "So… you're not going to help me figure this out, are you?"

I just look away as an answer. He snorts, apparently very amused at the fact that I'm making things difficult for him. "Can I have your name?"

"You won't have any use for it," I inform him flatly.

He laughs and puts himself in my line of vision again. "Alright I get it, and I take the challenge," he replies. "I'm going to get another drink and I'm sure I'll have figure things out by the time I come back. And if that's the case, you'll have to tell me your name," he winks at me and walks back inside the house, at the same moment Declan is coming out of it.

"I found it, let's go," Declan declares and we both head to his car; I get in and buckle up, a few seconds later Declan drives away.

xxxxx

"Mom, I'm home," I announce as I close the front door behind me.

"Hey baby," she appears from the kitchen. "Did you have a good time with Judith?"

"Jaz," I correct her "And we mostly worked on our essay mom," I lie.

Lying is a necessity, in my case anyway; it takes a lot of energy to keep up an illusion, I mean it's a meticulous job; it's easy to lie, it's another thing to get away with it. I'm brilliant, and I'm an amazing liar, it took time, strategy and practice, but I made it an art. I'm so good at lying that I don't think the truth would sound half as good coming out of my mouth.

"Did you finish your essay?"

"Yes," I grin. "What about you? Did everything go okay?"

"Bart didn't come… he was stuck with his family," she says, disappointment evident in her voice. "I did enjoy a quiet evening by myself."

"Good."

"Do you want to do something today?"

"We could go to the theatre," I shrug.

"It's my turn to choose movie I think."

"Yeah, but please, no romantic things… those suck, seriously," I whine a bit. She chuckles and walks away.

And there we go, it was another good night out of pure oblivion for me turning into another happy day for my mom.

Everything is for the best in the best world possible.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


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